S
by BVB Army 2 Forever
Summary: In New York City, Kurt has his plans together, and is becoming well-known as a fashion journalist, when a strange man fills the other side of his office. Driven by his curiosity, he tries to befriend the brooding, quiet man, even though he knows that things can go awry in a city of danger and mystery. Both of them realize that, even more so than the city, they needed saved.
1. Crash Land

Author's note: Hi, everyone! I've mentioned this story in my other stories, and said that I wouldn't publish it until I was finished with it. However, because I have so many pages written, I feel confident that I can update frequently, and can post this first chapter now. This story is a Superman fic, and it is not at all like the Superman movies that everyone knows, except for the fact that Superman will fight crime and write for a newspaper. I even redesigned his outfit, because the blue and red was not flattering. So, this fic will be rated M for language, some violence, and sexuality, but those things won't come up for a little while. I'll also be sparing in how many of the Glee characters that I include. As far as I know, the main three that will appear are Blaine, Kurt, and Unique. I know for sure that none of the Glee girls will be in the story, and a very minimal number of the boys will show up. Although I already have about half of the story written, I'd appreciate any suggestions, comments, or questions! Enjoy the chapter, and please tell me what you think!

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee!

* * *

Yellow streaks of light wriggled through the green, veiny leaves that dangled from the freshly flowered trees. No matter how unpredictable the weather of New York, the sun seemed to have acknowledged the good mood of the boy who was chasing the air, glimmering down onto the top of his blondish brown head. Below the canopy of greenery that the sun sporadically streaked through, the wild eyed boy hurried through the crowds that pressed him the opposite way.

His white boots, patterned with delicate tracings of golden rosemaling, clacked against the cobblestone pavement beneath him. He narrowly dodged a man hoisting his rowdy child into the air, and when he broke through the seal of people, he gulped the bubble of air he got before the next wave of people hit him, and scampered forward so quickly that the lacey netting wound around his neck nearly came loose and flew toward the splintery veins that crept out of the manicured bushes.

Placing a hand on the side of his neck to hold his frilly scarf down, he didn't stop for a second to knot it again, but kept going forward until he lost his footing on a crack in the white concrete, where the small park that he had to venture through each day withered away and made room for the main arteries of New York. He suddenly found himself standing off to the side of a narrow street, buildings climbing so high on either side of him that he would have thought himself boxed in had he not been adapted to New York's expansive and insurmountable scenery.

Kurt had spent the last four years pursuing a degree in journalism, with a specialization in fashion. Upon his graduation, he'd instantly whittled his way into a small news company, which combined different focuses into one building. Two weeks after he'd sent in his application, a woman who had been eager to have him had called him, laughingly saying that she had never seen anything like his sense of fashion before, and that he was refreshingly classic with his ideas, but frivolously contemporary enough to make the hordes of New York eat his designs up. Now, he was going onto his third month with the company, and had been woken up by an incessantly buzzing phone, almost every one of his colleagues congratulating him on making the front page with his newest article, which questioned the placement, or necessity, of fabric belts.

He arrived in front of the seven-story high, rectangular building that was painted a dim gray, but had the name of the company, Dalton, swirled in large, golden letters over the glass doors. Even though this building was unquestionably one of the smallest within three blocks of here, Kurt felt a sense of comfort here that hadn't been present in many other places, not even back at his hometown in Ohio. The people, no matter how few of them he knew, were all friendly and always busy, letting him slip by and vanish into his office, which he'd decorated to be as cozy as his apartment. There was nothing more settling to him than being able to head over to his office and recline into his plump chair, and then spend hours staring at the screen of his laptop as he whipped up the most becoming and latest designs. He needed all of the certainty and routine he could get, after what had gone on before.

As soon as he pushed through the doors, the cool air that circulated through the spacious lobby breezed through his hair and fluttered his scarf. Every footstep was punctuated by a click against the tile flooring, but his feet were soon stopped by a woman, no more than ten years older than him, skidding next to him, bunches of paper stacked in her arms. "Congratulations on your article, Mr. Hummel. It was one of your best."

Even though Kurt had never spoken to her before, he appreciated the enthusiastic praise. His lips stretched into a bright smile, "Thank you!" Before he got the last word out, she was zipping off, disappearing behind a door that was labeled as a copy room. He had just turned back to the front desk, where he was going to sign in, when he noticed a dark figure off to his left. Twisting around, Kurt grinned from ear to ear at the sight of his best friend, Unique. Although he and Unique worked on completely different floors, the two of them had immediately clicked with each other upon meeting, and made sure to schedule their breaks together so that they could get lunch with each other.

After living in Lima for all of his life, there had been no more of a shock for Kurt than when his eyes had fallen onto Unique, who was very fluid about the way he dressed, sometimes appearing in a sweatshirt and jeans—but only when he had hit a bump with his boyfriend, and other times strutting in with a dress snuggly strapped onto his body, the bodice of it stuffed with tissues. Kurt had been both admirable and alarmed at the way that Unique simply didn't care what others thought of him, after spending more years than he'd like to admit claiming that he, although gay, wasn't quite as gay as what the others tried to make him out to be.

"Kurt!" Unique, who was three years older than him and had already experienced all of the new things that he could have at the paper, made a show of Kurt's first major accomplishment by flinging his arms apart. "I'm so proud of you! Your article was excellent!" Giggling at the ridiculous amount of flattery, Kurt scampered into his best friend's arms and held him close. When they drew apart, Unique cupped Kurt's pointy chin in his large hand, "What are you doing here? It's your day off. Enjoy yourself. If I were you, I'd already be at a spa."

Kurt's eyes sparkled with amusement at Unique's idea of a perfect day. There was something about the boy that made him believe that Unique lived just by breathing, eating, and pampering himself. Pushing a stray hair off of his forehead, Kurt flitted his eyes around the lobby, "I wanted to thank Mr. Schuester for putting my article on the front page."

Unique gave him an incredulous look, one sharp brow arching so high that it nearly touched his hairline, "And you couldn't have just emailed him? Kurt, you could be sleeping in right now. Instead, you're here, out of breath. I will never understand you."

"I also wanted to ask him for a new assignment." Kurt put in quickly, as if that would amend his need to come in.

Squeezing Kurt's slender, pale hands, Unique shook his head, "Another one? Kurt, you haven't been off of an assignment since you started working here. You need to give yourself a break. I wonder how you always look so flawless, when I come in with bags and dry skin after just one night of working on an assignment." He slid an arm around Kurt and guided him over to the elevator, "You know, maybe you need to start dating. That's just what you need. A man in your life could distract you from all of this work. Besides, sex is very healthy, and sweating is good for the skin."

Kurt blushed at the blunt way that Unique brought up the topic, as if they were planning a trip to the mall. It had never failed to amaze Unique that, at twenty two years old, Kurt had never had a boyfriend, let alone gone on a date. Kurt had tried to blame his flavorless past on the fact that he came from Ohio. It wasn't like that hadn't been a contributing factor. But Kurt, and Kurt alone, understood to some extent about what had really gone wrong to prevent him from giving himself up to a man, an action that Unique did freely and without reservations. To him, sex was just sex. This was an opinion that Kurt didn't hold, and had never brought up to Unique, who wouldn't understand.

Luckily, he didn't have to make a comment before Unique, knowing that he'd brought up a topic that Kurt always managed to deflect, extended his arm through the doorway of the elevator to hold it open. Kurt followed him onto it, and then shuffled toward the back when two other men climbed on with them. Unique stared humorlessly at him, "You know, speaking of dating, you have a new officemate." At the surprised look that Kurt made, Unique raised his brows once more, "Schuester's emailed you, hasn't he? He was supposed to email you a week in advance, or else I would have brought it up to you earlier."

Kurt shouldn't have been as shocked as he was by the news of the other desk in his office being filled. It had been two months since someone had worked at it. When Kurt arrived, he'd been set up in a room that was already occupied by a woman. They'd worked across the room from each other for a few weeks, until she went into labor and didn't come back to work because she wanted to stay at home with her baby. When the elevator doors slid open, Kurt followed the group of men into the long, narrow hallway, which was padded with carpet, and painted with white walls. Rather than being an open space with cubicles, this building was structured to have private, quiet rooms for the employees to work. This kept the talking to a minimal, and with less distractions, there were more pages written.

Assuming that his new officemate was a man because of the way Unique had transitioned into mentioning him, Kurt stopped in the middle of the hallway and hugged his bag tighter to his chest. "When does he start working here?"

Unique winked, "Now." Kurt must have made another face, because his face crinkled up. He looked pleased with himself. "I met him this morning. He's dark and handsome."

"But not tall?"

He laughed, "No, not at all. He's very serious and businesslike. He didn't take easily to me. I guess I'm just too boisterous for him, so he's all yours. Although, if I were you, I wouldn't try to have a serious relationship with him. He'd just be a guy to get your feet wet. You need someone fun, like me. One weekend, I'll have to take the two of you out drinking, and you can hook up with him. He wouldn't even remember it in the morning."

Kurt couldn't believe that he was having this conversation about a man he hadn't even met. His eyes widened to the size of saucers as he let what Unique was saying sink into his head, but then he shook it all away. He returned to more appropriate questions, "Do you know what he's writing about? Or his name?"

He shrugged, "I don't know what he writes. He didn't stop long enough to let me ask. His name was…" he scratched the back of his head, "Anderson, or something like that."

Lowering his bag, Kurt straightened up the front of his shirt, which was a cream sweater that he'd tucked under a white pea coat that had round, golden buttons sewn down the middle of it. "I suppose that now is as good of a time as ever to meet him, isn't it? I won't be staying long, Unique. I should get out of his hair so he can unpack and adjust himself to the office."

Smirking, Unique reached back and pressed a button for the elevator, so that he could go down to the floor that he worked on. He winked again, "Don't be a stranger tonight. Let me know if he bangs you."

Kurt frowned, but chose not to respond because, no matter what he said, Unique would always be Unique. He spun around after his friend hopped onto an elevator, his lips mashing together. He was glad that he'd taken the extra time to make himself more presentable than usual, his outfit very coordinated and charming. Even if he didn't intend to use it the way that Unique wanted him to, he still wanted to make a good impression. Working a small smile onto his lips, Kurt stepped over to his office door and knocked lightly. From within, a deep, raspy voice grumbled, "Yes?"

Hesitantly draping his fingers over the handle, Kurt pressed down and slowly cracked the door open. His blue eyes peered inside at his office, which appeared untouched. He opened the door wider and stepped inside. Turning his head to the right, Kurt spotted a man seated at the usually empty desk, his form slouched over as he read over some documents. The man, as Unique had said, wasn't very tall, a fact that Kurt could tell even while he was seated. But his shoulders were very broad, his toned muscles pressing on the material of his dark blue button up. Kurt couldn't see his legs because they were smashed under the desk, but he noticed the tips of his shoes because his legs were so stretched out that his feet popped out of the other side.

He returned his gaze to the man's head, which was bent down, one of his dark hands burrowed into his thick piles of coffee colored curls. Coarse hair dusted his knuckles and the backs of his hands, and from where his sleeve had pushed slightly down, Kurt could see it travel up his arm. From what he could make out of him, Kurt took note of his bronze skin, like caramel candy had been melted over his body. Suddenly, the man's head raised, giving Kurt a view of his deep and knowing golden eyes, as if he'd seen things beyond his time. His face was young, despite being so chiseled and engrained with stubble. Kurt assumed that he couldn't have been older than thirty. Kurt startled when the man twisted a corner of his mouth up, "You're a journalist, aren't you?"

Kurt flickered his eyes around, avoiding the man's intense gaze, "U-Um… yes. I don't look like a journalist, do I?"

"Not particularly." The man sat back in his seat, his arms folding behind his head. The muscles in his chest strained against his shirt. "It's the way that you look at things. You're very intent… except for right now." Kurt's cheeks turned a rosy pink as he realized that the man had caught on to what he was doing. Slowly looking back at him, Kurt stared blankly at his hands, and the callouses on his fingers. "As I was saying, did you need something, or should I get used to people interrupting my work for no reason other than to bother me?"

Kurt's eyes widened to the size of saucers. Stumbling backwards, Kurt turned his head to the side and checked the number on the door. He wished that he had accidentally walked into the wrong office, and that his own, and the man inside—hopefully nicer than this one—were still waiting for him to arrive. "I-I… This is my office, too. My name is Kurt Hummel." Taking another step away from the man, Kurt cautiously sent him one more look, and found him steadily gazing at him, his eyes unblinking. There was something in his eyes that unnerved Kurt. "You're Mr. Anderson?"

"And you're disappointed." He pointed out, making Kurt lurch once more as he tried to figure out a way to untangle himself from this conversation. He hadn't met anyone like this before, not even back in Ohio. This man cut deeper than the rest of them, his wit quick and his tongue sharp, like a blade that was hacking away at Kurt. As he thought about what had happened to him those years ago, Kurt had the plummeting feeling that maybe it was as obvious as he had always dreaded it was, that this man could sniff his sexuality out, and was annoyed with it. Kurt's shoulders drooped.

As he retreated toward the door, Kurt whispered through a tight throat, "I-I just… came by to see if I had left my… my…" He suddenly blanked on what objects he used every day for his job, or even what job he did, and felt even more stupid under the man's condescending eye. He shook his head, "It's my day off. I'll be going now." Before the man could put in anything else on their one-sided conversation, Kurt whipped around the corner and scampered off, even though he knew that the man wouldn't feel guilty enough to follow him and apologize. By the time he made it down to the lobby and took in a few deep breaths, he realized that he had forgotten to ask Schuester for his next assignment. He let the mistake roll off of him, and glided through the doors.


	2. Something I Need

"It was _awful._ " Kurt slumped over to his best friend, who was the first person he came across when he shouldered through the main doors. Unique, who had started waggling his brows, immediately neutralized his expression, his heavy hands coming to Kurt's shoulders. "No one has ever spoken to me the way that he did. I don't know how we'll get along in the same office. He can't tolerate my presence." Gloomily dropping his head onto Unique's shoulder, he felt his best friend's arms wind around him, "I don't think that he's gay, Unique. I think _that's_ the problem."

"You think that he's a homophobe?" Unique asked, simplifying what Kurt had been implying. "You didn't come outright and tell him, did you? That can even freak other gay guys out. Straight people don't go around blurting their sexualities."

"Unique, look at me." Kurt said pitifully, "I didn't have to say anything for him to know. How am I supposed to feel comfortable in my office? How is he going to feel comfortable around _me?_ "

"Don't blame yourself for this." Unique pulled him over to the elevators, as he did every other day, and pushed the button. "If he's a homophobe, that's his problem. Listen, Kurt… I want you to give it a few days. Let him settle in. If he's still belittling you and making you feel antsy, I'll personally escort you to Mr. Schuester and we'll have him switch your office. Maybe you can take the desk in my room."

"Thank you for offering, Unique." Kurt's voice was breathier as he tried to calm himself down. The last thing he wanted to do was show up in front of Blaine with shaking hands and puffy eyes. "But I would still see him around. If I back down, then his taunting might get worse. I don't want to deal with another bully. I left Ohio to get away from all of that."

"Whatever you say." Unique held up both of his hands, "My offer still stands, though. I'll always be here for you, Kurt." When the elevator door crept open on Kurt's floor, he rubbed his shoulder, "Let me take you out to lunch during our breaks. We'll both need the fresh air."

"Okay." Kurt murmured, watching the door seal Unique up once more. Taking a deep breath as he faced the direction of his office, and suddenly wondered why he hadn't taken Unique up on his offer, he paced over to his door and fumbled with the handle. When the lock didn't release, he realized that Anderson had either locked him out, or hadn't gotten there yet. He drew his key from the depths of his bag and pressed his hand to the door. The hinges creaked as it slowly swung out of his way. Searching the interior of the room, he noticed that Anderson's desk was untouched, but that he had left a bag here overnight.

Kurt wondered if Anderson was bringing more of his things today, since all he'd put on his desk was the black bag that was stuffed with papers. On the first day that Kurt had moved into the office, he'd hefted bag after bag into the room, and decorated the white walls with a few paintings of flowers. On his desk sat a vase that held two pink roses in it, and beside of that a picture frame that had his family within it. Kurt also left a few notebooks here, ones that he picked up and scribbled down quick ideas into if he didn't have his laptop on him.

Shutting the door behind himself, he took a deep, steadying breath, and wandered over to his desk. He clunked his bag onto it and started to pull out his laptop, when he heard something buzzing across the room. He lifted his blue eyes, flashing them over to the side of the room where the quiet noise was coming from. Furrowing his brows at Anderson's desk, Kurt shuffled over to it on the tips of his toes, as if someone was going to catch him. He scooted Anderson's bag out of the way when he noticed a light blinking underneath it, and he picked up his phone. Because the phone was locked, all he could do was press a button on the side to turn the sound off. Putting the phone back down, Kurt pondered if Anderson had forgotten it here yesterday, or if he had already been here and had just slipped off to the bathroom.

He started to turn away once more, when his nipping curiosity turned into painful bites, and he bent back over Anderson's things. It was this side of him that had led him to be a journalist, albeit one that solved fashion crises instead of urgent mysteries. He pinched the flap that folded over the opening of the bag and peeled it away. Reaching in and pulling out the first ten papers that were sitting on top, Kurt flipped them up so he could read them, and he sank into Anderson's chair. It only took a few sentences for Kurt to realize that Anderson was one of the few in the building who braved the task of writing about the crimes that went on in the alleyways and underground tunnels of New York City. The only reason he wasn't shocked by this discovery was because there were limited columns left in the paper, and among them were what Kurt did, and a few pages about sports, and a couple of advice columns for people who mailed in their questions.

Crossing one of his legs over the other, he wiggled deeper into the chair as he read through the next page. Anderson's writing was nothing less than captivating and attention grabbing, despite the crude and raw material that he was covering. When he shuffled the next page behind the others and started on the third one, he felt a cold feeling sink into the pit of his stomach when the door smashed open. Picking himself up from the seat, Kurt let the papers fall from his limp fingers. Anderson briskly stepped into the room, but jerked himself to a halt when he noticed Kurt standing by his desk.

His face was tinted a darker shade, as if he'd been doing something strenuous, and his masses of curls were sticking up in every direction. As he hurried in, he was closing up the last button on his shirt. Although the action was hassled, and Kurt didn't get a good glimpse of the exposed part of his neck that the shirt covered when it was closed, he still flushed at the sight of Anderson's fingers tugging at his shirt. But his eyes snapped up to Anderson's face when the door snapped shut behind him. Kurt staggered away from Anderson's desk, "I-I'm sorry. Your phone was buzzing—"

Anderson's thick brows ruffled at Kurt's face, and he deliberately stalked away from the door. He stood at the other side of the desk, while Kurt flung himself backward, his back hitting the wall with a thud. "Do you have no boundaries?" Leaning over the desk, he scraped the papers back into his bag and slid it over to himself. He raised his narrowed eyes back up to Kurt's face, and Kurt felt his throat constrict, making it hard to swallow. His top lip trembled. "Keep your nose out of my things."

Kurt, keeping his eyes on Anderson's face, cautiously crept to the side. He bumped into the corner of his desk because he wasn't looking where he was going, so he quickly whirled around and skittered back to his chair. He plopped down very abruptly. It took Anderson several seconds to move, and then he finally stomped back over to his chair and threw himself down. Huffing out a sharp groan, he rolled his head back and covered it with his hand. Wondering if Anderson had done anything arduous before he'd gotten to work, Kurt ogled him, watching his shoulders lower as his body melted into the back of the chair.

Even though Anderson had made no effort to show concern for Kurt, he couldn't hold back his tongue when he peeped, "Do your eyes hurt?"

He spoke so softly that he could have hardly heard himself, but Anderson suddenly said from behind his hand, "I just have a headache."

Kurt slid back in his chair, his eyes remaining on Anderson once more as he knelt by the small fridge he kept in the corner of his office. He opened the door and pulled out a bottle of water, and then he got back to his feet and carried it over to Anderson's desk. He placed it centimeters away from the hand that was resting on the table, and then he walked over to the light switch and flipped it down. The room was submerged in darkness, with a rectangle of light in the shape of the window shining down on Kurt's side of the room. From the corner of his eye, he saw Anderson raise his hand from his face and peer at Kurt from under half closed lids. His thick, black lashes twitched.

Anderson lowered his gaze to the water bottle, and he opened his mouth to say something. But then he shut it again as Kurt lowered into his seat and opened his laptop, pretending to concentrate on something important. When Anderson looked down, Kurt poked his nose over the top of the laptop and studied the angles of his face as he sucked his lips in. He spun the lid off of the bottle and set it on the table so that it rested on its side. Before Kurt could look back down, Anderson also raised his eyes. His face was solemn. "Blaine." He muttered, and it took all of Kurt's strength to keep his cheek muscles from pressing upward. He ducked behind his laptop, hearing Blaine's rumbling voice once more, "Thanks."

* * *

A few hours later, the throbbing in Blaine's head had receded until he felt well enough to flick the light back on. The sudden brightness had startled Kurt out of his trance, because both of them had sank into his own work and was typing diligently. When the room lit up, Kurt was almost disappointed because the dimness in the room had been relaxing, and had kept most of his face concealed from Blaine, who he occasionally glanced up at. But Blaine had thought that this was what he wanted, because he had sat down hard in his chair again and had taken a sip of the water, before he'd pulled his laptop back over to him and started up where he left off.

Minutes after Blaine turned the light on, a hand drummed against the door. Kurt checked the time at the bottom of the screen on his laptop, and he smiled as he realized that Unique had come to retrieve him for lunch. Hopping out of his seat, Kurt scurried over to the door and opened it. He was greeted by Unique's broad grin, his arm crooking for Kurt. "Are you ready to go? I'm _hungry._ "

"Sure." Kurt chirped, and then remembered that he had left his phone and wallet in his bag. "Give me one second." Digging through his bag, he snatched what he needed and stuck both items into the deep pocket of his coat. He returned to his friend's side, looping his arm through his, and was about to let him drag him out the door when his eyes hesitantly swept over to Blaine. To his surprise, he saw him gazing unblinkingly at him, as he'd done earlier. "Um… Blaine, are you hungry?"

Blaine shook his head, keeping his mouth shut, so Kurt started to step back. "O-Okay. Oh… this is Unique. I t-think you met him yesterday."

"We've spoken." Blaine agreed.

Kurt waved at him when Unique yanked on his arm, "I'll be back within the hour." Gasping as he was sent reeling backwards by one hard jerk, Kurt awkwardly caught his balance as Unique unceremoniously shut the door. "Why the hurry?" He clung to Unique's arm, trying not to trip over himself at the pace that Unique was walking at.

"What was that about?" Unique demanded, leading him over to the elevators and smacking his palm against one of the knobs. "I thought that we were against him."

"I never said that." Kurt stepped into one of the elevators with Unique, and felt it shudder as it started rolling them downward. "I didn't know what he thought about me. I thought that we wouldn't be okay with each other. But he's not so bad." Trailing after Unique when he started moving again, Kurt waved at one of his coworkers when she acknowledged them with a smile. He breathed in the cool air when they stepped outside. Their building was squished between a bank and the café that they always lunched at, so they had to turn around the corner, and they were facing the doorway to the café. "Unique… please. Blaine is staying in my office. Let me handle my relationship with him."

"You're too forgiving." Unique growled, the rough tone of his voice taking out the enjoyment that Kurt always felt when he walked into the café, surrounded by soft chatter and bubbles of smells that made his mouth water. He led them to the end of the line, which stretched surprisingly long for a Tuesday afternoon. "But… I'll let you take care of this, Kurt. I guess I have only known the guy for one day. Maybe he's just having a couple of bad days." When someone at the front of the line stepped away with his hands full of a muffin and a coffee, both of them inched forward. Unique made a gesture with his hands, "I have bigger things to talk about than Blaine, anyway. Do you know that party I went to this weekend?"

Kurt nodded, "Yes… you told me about it."

Unique playfully winked at him, "Not all of it. I met a guy there, and he totally seemed like he was your type. His name is Sebastian. I mentioned you to him, but he was still in a relationship. He said that it was shaky, though, and that he was thinking of breaking it off. And guess what he did?" Unique's smile widened.

"He broke it off?" Kurt said distractedly, bending over the glass container of pastries when they reached the front of the café. When Unique tapped his shoulder, Kurt lifted back up and waved him off, "Unique, I've told you before… I'm not looking for a boyfriend. I'm not cut out for dating."

"What does that even mean?" Unique scrunched up his face, but Kurt ignored him.

He pointed at a fluffy muffin that was bursting with blueberries, sprinkles of sugar topping the hot treat. "I want to bring back a meal for Blaine. Do you think that he might be allergic to blueberries?"

* * *

At the end of their lunch breaks, Unique and Kurt walked arm in arm back to their workplace, chattering amiably about their newest articles. When they returned to the lobby, Kurt clutched Blaine's muffin and coffee tighter to his chest as Unique wound an arm around him. "I think I'm going to take the rest of my work home. How about it, Kurt? We can walk back together."

Kurt looked down at the meal that he was holding, "That's okay, Unique. I think I'll stay for a while longer. Thank you, though." He hugged his friend, "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Unique instantly agreed, reminding him to keep him updated about Kurt's new situation. Waving Unique off, Kurt headed over to the elevator and clumsily tapped a button with his elbow, since his hands were full. The ride up was smooth and peaceful, since most of his coworkers left halfway through the day or took lunch around this time. The elevator dinged at his floor, and Kurt stepped out, wandering down the hallway and standing outside of his door. Since he had no available hands, he tapped his foot against the door and called, "Blaine?"

Within seconds, the door was pried open, and on the other side stood Blaine, his large, bulky form taking up the entire doorway. Kurt widened his eyes, "You were very quick." Blaine didn't say anything to him, and instead stepped back, so Kurt gingerly held out the food and drink, "These are for you. If you're leaving soon, take them with you… please. I thought you might want them. Do you like blueberries and coffee?"

Blaine took the items back to his desk and plunked them onto the wooden surface, "Yeah… I do. How did you know that?"

Kurt shrugged helplessly, "Lucky guess?" As Blaine picked a blueberry out of the muffin and stained his fingers, he giggled, "You're supposed to eat the blueberries with the muffin. You'll have blue hands if you eat them that way." Blaine stuck the blueberry into his mouth, and then plucked another one out, his eyes watching Kurt as if to see if he would try to stop him.

Kurt smiled at him, "Here… I have some tissues, if you're going to be difficult." Opening the front pocket of his bag, Kurt pulled out a handful of tissues and brought them over to Blaine, who tilted his head away, as if repulsed by Kurt. Kurt tried to not be troubled by the movement as he reached for Blaine's sticky hand, folding his around the outside of it. He wiped a smudge of blue off of it, and then tossed the tissues to the side. Even though he could have retreated back to his desk, he stayed where he was, hand clasped loosely around Blaine's. He watched through a pair of round eyes as Blaine slowly turned his hand over, one of his fingers tracing a pattern into Kurt's palm. Kurt shivered at the heat that trailed behind his blunt fingernails.

Tilting his head back, Kurt looked at Blaine from the corner of his eye. Up close to Blaine, he could make out the definition in his face, the way his nose was slightly crooked at the bridge, how his bottom lip was thicker than his top. Kurt couldn't bring himself to comprehend how his stomach rolled as he watched Blaine, stared at the movement of the lump in his throat as he swallowed. He was hardly aware that Blaine was still rubbing his palm until a small sigh broke out of his lips.

It was then that Blaine jolted away from him, flying backwards with such force that his body banged into his desk and sent it rocking back and forth. The movement pushed on Kurt, who wobbled backwards, until a pair of arms enveloped him and saved him from falling. Clasped in Blaine's tight grip, Kurt stared up at him, panting weakly as Blaine held him. Kurt started to place his hands on Blaine's shoulders, but before he could even blink, Blaine righted him, and darted across the room. "Keep yourself out of trouble, why don't you?" He snapped, flinging open the door and slamming it behind himself after he was gone. Kurt fell shakily against the wall, grabbing it with his hands so he would stay upright. Pressing a hand to his thrumming chest, he inhaled sharply, wondering what it was that had just happened between them.

* * *

The next morning, Kurt scampered into his workplace with two muffins, a coffee, and a smoothie. He was twenty minutes early, which meant that Unique hadn't even rolled out of bed yet, so he went up to his office by himself. He jiggled the handle, but it didn't give, so he unlocked the door himself. When he opened it, he found himself faced with an empty room. For some reason, Kurt felt a ping of disappointment settle into his stomach as he placed both meals on his desk and looked sadly at Blaine's desk. He stored the coffee, and one of the muffins, in his fridge, but by the time Unique came to pick him up for lunch, he realized that Blaine wasn't coming.

He tried to keep this inner turmoil to himself, but as he squirmed and sighed incessantly at the café, Unique knew that something had gone wrong. "Kurt." He said loudly, pulling Kurt back out of his head as he fidgeted with his shirt and thought up a thousand scenarios of what Blaine could be doing instead. He had come in the other day with part of his shirt unbuttoned, and his cheeks flushed and his hair a mess. As he reminded himself of this, he felt his stomach droop even lower. He didn't even know why this was bothering him so much. "You haven't touched your hot chocolate. What's the matter?"

Kurt shook his head, unable to put words to his feelings. "I don't know, Unique. I don't feel like myself today."

Unique sat back in his chair, folding his fingers into a bridge, "I think you're lonely, Kurt." That was his response to all of Kurt's problems. "Are you sure you don't want me to set you up on a date with Sebastian? It could even be a double date, with me and my boyfriend, and you two."

Kurt shook his head again, "I don't want to go on a date."

Claiming a touch of fatigue, Kurt went home early for the first time in months. That evening, when he was curled up on his couch, feeling paralyzed, as if he could start bawling if he twitched a muscle, he wondered what was going wrong with him. All he could think about was Blaine.


	3. Chasing the Sun

Not wanting to get his hopes up, Kurt jangled his keys around in his bag until his hand closed on them. He approached his door with the keys held up, but before he could even press them into the lock, the door flew open and Blaine stuck his head out. Kurt felt a rush of emotion at the sight of him, with his dark, scruffy curls, which Kurt had the oddest desire to run his fingers through, hanging over his forehead. Kurt didn't get a word out before Blaine said abruptly, "Are you okay?"

Kurt didn't know why Blaine had asked that question, but the reasoning didn't matter to him. Blaine was here today, and he wasn't buttoning up his shirt. "I'm okay." Kurt replied quickly, shuffling past Blaine and flinging his bag onto his desk. Right now, he couldn't focus on typing out a few pages for his next article. All he wanted was answers from Blaine. "Where were you yesterday?"

There was a moment of pause, and it was those few seconds that made the air swell with tension. It seemed to push them farther apart. Blaine shrugged, "I had business to take care of outside of town."

Kurt closed his eyes, "Business? Do you have another job?"

"I'd rather not talk about it."

And that was all that Kurt needed to know. Turning away from Blaine, he emptied his bag out with large, sweeping motions, scattering pencils and paper across his desk. Blaine's voice stabbed through his silence, "What's the matter?" Kurt simply rolled his shoulders, but then he inhaled sharply as he was forcefully spun around, Blaine's hands squeezing his thin arms. Kurt's eyes flashed up to the wild look on Blaine's face, one that he'd never seen before. "Tell me what it is that's upsetting you."

Kurt lowered his gaze to Blaine's pounding chest, unable to look into his frantic eyes. As his eyes traveled down the front of him, he screeched to a halt on a bloody mark on his neck. The red liquid had seeped into his gray shirt, a splotchy stain in the otherwise pristine fabric. "How did you get hurt, Blaine?"

Kurt's fingers fluttered over the scabbing wound, the vibrations of Blaine's deep rumble making him withdraw. He lowered his hand to the breast pocket on his shirt, his fingers curling into the fabric as Blaine slid his arms around him and brought him to his chest. Kurt lowered his lashes, his mouth opening. "Just kiss me already." He didn't have to ask twice before Blaine smothered his mouth with his own. Kurt's eyes popped open for just a brief second at the zing of pleasure that came from Blaine's mouth, but then he squeezed them shut, his free hand raising to Blaine's curls and threading through them.

Blaine lapped his tongue over Kurt's top lip, asking for entrance. Kurt parted his lips, whimpering at the intrusion of Blaine's tongue. Having never been kissed, Kurt was unused to the sounds of their lips sucking and popping, or the breathy moans that Blaine urged out of him. He had never been so aware of fabric crinkling, as his fingers dug into Blaine's chest. When the two of them pulled apart because of the need for air, Kurt blinked his eyes open, his cheeks turning red at the sight of Blaine's swollen lips, his face burning with color. Kurt felt the heat in his own face, the scratch marks where Blaine's stubble had scraped him.

"I tried so hard to stay away from you." Blaine's voice was strained. "You're so damned beautiful. I promise you, Kurt, that I will do everything to keep you safe."

Kurt's lashes fluttered as Blaine's foggy breath curled around them. Held against Blaine's chest, Kurt smelled the heady, outdoorsy cologne he wore. Raising his arms, Kurt wrapped them around Blaine's neck so he wasn't suspended anymore. "You don't know me."

"I can try to." Blaine whispered against the lobe of his ear, his soft words tickling it. "Let's start with dinner… this Friday. Tell me where you live. I'll pick you up at six."

Kurt's head was spinning as Blaine righted him, but kept him close to his chest. This was all happening very quickly, too quickly for Kurt to keep up with. Flickering his eyes over Blaine's carved face, Kurt spent a second too long staring at his eyes, which seemed hollow and empty, slightly sunken into the dark bruises that surrounded them. He tried to bring himself back to reality by humming, "T-There are no others?"

"Not right now." Blaine admitted, the casual tone of his voice making Kurt wince. He should have been expecting an answer like that, knowing that many other men around his age weren't looking for anything serious. As if he had caught on to Kurt's reluctance, Blaine pushed his thick eyebrows together, his eyes becoming cold. He unexpectedly let go of Kurt, "Kurt, it's just dinner."

Kurt frowned deeply, leaning against the wall once more as he tried to comprehend what Blaine wanted from him. This wasn't the way he had fantasized that he would feel after his first kiss. The faceless man he had daydreamed of was supposed to swoop him into his arms and laugh with him, pecking more kisses all over his smiling face. Instead, as Kurt looked at Blaine, he felt empty inside. He wasn't aware that he had reacted to Blaine until he felt his chin nod up and down. "Dinner, then. On Friday?"

Blaine arched his brows, returning to his desk and starting to sit down. "Unless Saturday works better for you. I can be flexible if I want something enough." Kurt felt his fingers curl into his palms, his hands becoming tight fists. Something didn't feel right. Blaine had just switched his personality five times within the last fifteen minutes, as if he assumed one, and then reminded himself that he couldn't act that way. For a brief moment, Kurt wished that he had turned him down, but then he figured that it might be best to go on one date with him. If it didn't work out between them, then he could just keep deflecting Blaine by saying that he was busy, if he asked him out again. It would be easier this way.

Nodding, Kurt retreated from Blaine, and reached behind him, finding his chair by shuffling his hands around. "Friday. Friday is fine. I'll give you my number, okay? Why don't you call me later tonight, and I'll give you my address?"

* * *

Kurt tugged at the bottom of his powdery purple scarf, its circular shape hanging down to the bottom of his creamy white sweater. He adjusted the silver butterfly clips that he had pinned onto the side of the scarf, and then stood back, appraising the outfit that he had bought for his first date. His sweater only had one sleeve, but the wide fabric of the scarf hid the shoulder that it didn't cover. His sweater stretched down to his knees, which were covered in a pair of pale purple pants, such a light color that they almost appeared white. On his feet was a pair of silver, pointed boots.

Deciding that he looked as good as he could, Kurt toyed with one strand of his hair that had fallen over his forehead, and then turned away from the mirror when, from across the room, his small, yellow bird chattered at him. "Are you hungry, Pavarotti?" He opened the door to Pavarotti's golden cage, and he picked up the bag of birdseed. Pouring it into his bowl, he smiled as his tiny bird climbed up the wooden bridge that Kurt had made from the layer of bedding at the bottom to the edge of the bowl. "Eat up. When I get home tonight, I'll give you some treats." He stroked the top of his bird's head, remembering when his dad had given him his bird as a gift for his eighteenth birthday, before he left for college.

Pavarotti nibbled a piece of seed, releasing a soft, purring sound as Kurt scratched his fuzzy belly. He shut the cage door, and then he twisted around, his eyes falling onto the clock. Blaine should have been there ten minutes ago. Although he wasn't sure how this night would go, he knew that he couldn't let Blaine tromp in and sweep him out the door if he was more than twenty minutes late. Sighing, Kurt started to lower onto his white couch, when he heard a sharp knock on his door. Widening his eyes, Kurt moved away from the couch and called, "I'm coming!"

He scampered over to the door and flung it open, finding Blaine standing on the other side. He was tucking his red tie under his gray jacket, his curls spiraling off of the top of his head. His cheeks were dark with color, as if he'd run all the way here, instead of driving. Slowly, Blaine lowered his hands as he raised his eyes to Kurt's face. A smile cracked onto Blaine's lips. "You look stunning." He muttered, and when Kurt made a concerned face at him, he shook his head. "I'm sorry that I'm late. I had to take care of… something."

Kurt pulled away from Blaine, "You won't let this happen again, will you?"

Taking a deep breath, Blaine held his hand out for Kurt, "I'll try not to. I don't make promises if I'm not sure that I'll be able to keep them." Kurt slid his hands under his arms, his blank eyes staring at Blaine's extended hand, so Blaine stepped closer to him. "Please?"

Kurt hesitantly placed his hand on top of Blaine's, "Okay, Blaine." Feeling Blaine entangle their fingers, he let him lead him out of his apartment, and locked the door behind himself. He followed Blaine down the hallway, standing closer to him when another man rushed by them. When their shoulders bumped, Blaine removed his hand from Kurt's and slid an arm around his waist. The two of them remained in silence as Blaine opened the glass door in the lobby, and nudged him through it.

In the early weeks of fall, the air became chilly and brisk just before the sun set. As it drooped in the sky, a cold rush of wind wrapped around Kurt's bare arm, and made him shiver. Beside of him, Blaine came to a halt on the parking lot's pavement. He shouldered out of his jacket and draped it over Kurt's shoulders, making him blush as he quietly thanked him. Blaine returned his arm to Kurt's waist, and he took him over to a silver sports car that didn't have a scuff on it. He opened the passenger door and helped Kurt inside, and then walked around to the other side, ducking into his seat.

As soon as he started the car, Blaine leaned down and adjusted the heat. Kurt shuddered as his sweater soaked in the warm air blowing out of the vent, and then his eyes lowered to the mileage bar. "You haven't driven this car much." He pointed out, looking at Blaine from the corner of his eye. "Do you live close to Dalton?"

"I guess you could say that." Blaine tapped his fingers over the steering wheel, waiting for another man to pull out behind them. "I don't drive much. Before I moved to New York, I didn't even own a car. Everything that I needed was right at my fingertips."

"Where did you live before you came here?"

Blaine shrugged, "I travel a lot. I don't stay in one place for long." Flicking his eyes from the road, he raised his brows, "And you're not from New York."

"A good observation." Kurt commented, a smile quirking at the corners of his lips. "It's the accent, isn't it? I was raised in Ohio… in a small town called Lima. I lived with my dad for a long time. It was just the two of us. And then he met a nice woman at a ball game that I took him to for his forty seventh birthday. Her name is Carole, and she's my stepmom now. Her son, Finn, was actually in my high school class, but I never met him until our parents started dating. Right after they got married, I… moved. I don't know either of them very well."

Kurt didn't know why he let himself yammer on, when Blaine had just been asking where he had lived before. But something about telling him what his past was like felt comforting to Kurt, who snuggled down into the seat and turned his eyes to the road ahead. Instead of commenting on all that Kurt had just admitted to him, Blaine prodded another answer out of him, "So… why New York? Not just anyone moves to New York, let alone from somewhere so far, and so completely different from a place like this."

Kurt shrugged, "I've just… always wanted to live here. Even when I was little, I would map out all of the places that I wanted to see. Being gay in Ohio is much harder than it is here. Besides… I love fashion and writing, so why not come to the place where I can combine those and hopefully be very successful one day?"

"And what's your definition of success?"

Laughing at his own thoughts, Kurt said, "Well, a bigger apartment wouldn't hurt anything. But… I guess I just want to be happy. I used to sing… I was even in a club at my high school. But, I haven't done that in years, and I dropped out of the club." Kurt dropped his head, his blue eyes counting the number of seams he saw in his jeans, and he shook his head sadly. "Let's not talk about that, though. What about you, Blaine? Why New York? And why crime writing? Doesn't it wear on you, having to write all of those tragic stories every day?"

A hint of a smile touched Blaine's lips, "It's not tragic if someone helps the victim." Once again peeling his eyes from the road, Blaine looked over at Kurt, "I like to stay updated on the news. And New York has a lot of that. I like to be the first to know when things go wrong."

"You're a very talented writer. You must have a lot of experience."

Blaine chuckled, "If you want to know how long I've been writing, it's been about twelve years since I've picked it up. If you're implying that you want to know how old I am, I'm thirty four." Kurt wasn't aware that he had made a face, but then Blaine laughed again. "What's the astonished look for? You can't be more than a few years younger than me."

"I'm twenty two." Kurt squeaked, watching Blaine's face fall as he processed this. "I graduated from college a few months ago."

Blaine was astounded by what Kurt had told him, "You're so young to have made the front page of a newspaper." He slowed down the car as he turned into a nearly empty parking lot. "Needless to say, I'm impressed."

"Thank you." Kurt breathed, glad that his age hadn't put Blaine off for more than a few seconds. Blaine stepped out of the car and walked around to Kurt's door again, opening it for him and grabbing his hand. "What a gentleman."

Blaine guided Kurt into the restaurant, one that neither of them had been to before. The restaurant had off-white walls and beige trim, elegant paintings hanging on the walls. The tables were round, and covered with white cloth. Candles sat in the middle of each one, and wine glasses surrounded those. Blaine stepped up to the man standing behind the podium, his hand rubbing a circle into Kurt's lower back. "I made a reservation under the name Anderson."

"Of course." The man agreed, after he checked the list that was resting on top of the podium. "Right this way, Mr. Anderson." He took them into the dining area, where they passed by several tables, until they reached the back of the restaurant. The man gestured to a circular table at the farthest corner, concealed from the other tables. "A private table, at your request."

Kurt's cheeks became hot, and he snapped his eyes over to Blaine, who shuffled behind him and stripped his jacket off of his shoulders. He folded it over the back of his chair, and then pulled Kurt's chair out. "Is this table to your liking?" Blaine asked when Kurt hesitated. "Please, let me know what will please you."

Kurt awkwardly plopped into the chair that Blaine was still holding onto. Once Kurt was settled, Blaine raised his hand, and for a brief moment, he laid his scalding touch onto Kurt's shoulder. "T-This is plenty… pleasing. I… Thank you. Really, I would have been fine with something less…"

Unable to find the words, Kurt let Blaine finish, "Less expensive? Somewhere that didn't require a reservation?" Kurt nodded, unwilling to voice his worries because he knew how rude it was to bring up someone's wealth. Blaine chuckled deeply, "It's alright, Kurt. At thirty four years old, a man ought to be able to splurge every now and then. It's good for his self-esteem to wine and dine his date."

Kurt shook his head, "I just… Blaine, I don't have the money to pay my part of the check. I'd like to contribute something."

"Don't worry about it." Blaine brushed that aside, "It's been a long time since I've been on a date with someone as interesting as you are." Kurt turned pink at the compliment, glimpsing up at a waiter dressed in a white shirt and a black vest. He held out two bottles of wine. After he asked if they wanted to taste the drinks, Blaine squinted at them and said, "I'll have the white wine. Kurt, what will you be having?"

"The same." Kurt murmured lamely, relying on Blaine's choice because he didn't drink often enough to be able to distinguish between the good and the bad. After the waiter poured three fingers into their glasses, Kurt thanked him and picked up one of the menus that he had deposited in front of them. "It all looks so good. Maybe I should try something new, instead of my usual plate of farfalle."

Blaine arched his brow, "Knowledgeable about Italian food? You're gorgeous, smart, and very good at conversing. Any other surprises I should know about?"

Kurt giggled, "Italian is one of my favorite kinds of food. But I always get the same kinds of pastas. What are you getting? I need to change something up."

"Try the manicotti. No matter where I go, it's always tasty." Blaine set his menu aside, and he picked up his glass of wine. Rubbing his fingers on the stem, he sipped the drink. After he put it down, he went back to watching Kurt, who was debating what sauce he should get with the manicotti. "Tell me more about this family of yours."

Raising his head, Kurt grinned from ear to ear, "My dad is an amazing man. He's always been so helpful and supportive. He and I are very close. He runs his own garage, where he fixes cars." The smile on his face withered away, his cheeks draining of color, "When I was fourteen, he had a heart attack. He spent a week in a coma. But… he got better very quickly. After that, he met Carole. She's a nurse. She's very nice… She's like a friend to me. I've cooked a lot of meals with her. Finn never took the time to get to know me. He was dating on and off, and when he wasn't with either of the girls he was seeing, he was at football practice."

"And your mom?" Blaine took another drink.

"She passed away when I was eight years old. It was cancer. I loved her very much. She was my best friend when I was little." When his eyes welled up, Kurt blinked away the tears. "But, my dad and I are in a good place again, and I know that's what she would have wanted for us." Kurt leaned forward, "And your family?"

Blaine waited to speak until the waiter had brought over a plate of breadsticks and a bowl of salad. After thanking him, he cleared his throat, "My family isn't something that I speak of lightly."

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't know—"

Blaine slid a breadstick off of the plate and broke it in half, handing part of it over to Kurt. "There's no need for you to apologize. How could you have known? But I want to talk about something else." Before Blaine could finish his thought, the waiter returned with glasses of ice water. He asked for their orders, clicking his pen and pressing it to a notepad. Blaine glanced over at Kurt, and then twisted back to the waiter. "Both of us will try the manicotti."

The waiter took off again, weaving in and out of tables, and Blaine slid back into his chair. He seemed to be examining Kurt, letting his eyes shamelessly rake over his face as Kurt gnawed on his lip. "Why do you look nervous? You must be the subject of many wandering eyes. I've never seen anyone quite as exquisite as you." Kurt raised his shoulders, a movement that made Blaine huff incredulously. "If not strangers on the street, what about your past boyfriends?"

"I don't have any of those." As if disappointed by what Kurt had whispered, Blaine let his face become very serious. Blaine opened his mouth to say something, and then shut it again. "I've never been on a date before."

"This is your… first?" Blaine shook his head, unable to come to terms with this new information.

"I grew up in Ohio—"

"But then you came to New York for college." Blaine interrupted, his face critical, "Kurt, you're twenty two. Why have you never dated before? Men must have given you attention. I don't see how they couldn't—"

"I don't want to talk about it, Blaine." Kurt swallowed the emotions that were bubbling up under the surfaces. "Are you upset with me because I have no experience?"

"I never said that—"

"Your face is angry." When Kurt blurted that, Blaine's jaw twitched. He rubbed a hand over his face, smoothing away the wrinkles where his face had scrunched up. Kurt sank lower into his seat. "Why don't I ask why a thirty four year old hasn't settled down yet?"

Blaine turned his face away from Kurt, "I'm not good at commitment." He grumbled, his voice scratchy. "I travel too much, and I'm never… there."

Kurt felt like he had just been dunked into a tank of freezing water. "Why did you take me out, then?" Blaine sat very still for several seconds, his emotionless eyes staring at the table, so Kurt pried. "What about the other people you dated? What happened to them? How many dates did you take them on before you cut them out of your life?"

"Kurt, I'm not going to cut you out of my life—"

"Because we work together? Because you have to see me?" The more frantic that he became, the higher his voice raised, until every word sounded like a faint squeak. "Why did you take me on a date, Blaine?"

Suddenly, Blaine slammed a fist onto the table, making Kurt jump backwards. Luckily, no one was around them to hear the jarring sound. "The other people that I took on dates… I brought them home and had sex with them, Kurt. Why do you think I took them out? We're both adults. I don't think that this should be hard for you—" Blaine bit back his tongue when his phone buzzed below the table. Making a frustrated sound, Blaine dug in his pocket and read the message.

Kurt pursed his lips, knowing from all of the advice that Unique had given him that a man was never supposed to check his phone at the table. Blaine abruptly slid away from the table, swearing under his breath. "I have to…" He looked hopelessly at Kurt, who knitted his brows together. "An emergency came up. I've got to go."

Kurt's eyes widened as Blaine bolted to his feet. He started to protest, when Blaine walked around to his side of the table and bent, searching his lips with a firm kiss. There was no emotion behind the hard touch of Blaine's mouth. When he pulled away, he looked so unaffected that Kurt was almost offended. "Take my car home. Oh, and…" Blaine fished around in his pocket for his wallet. "Use my card. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Blaine—" Kurt tried, but Blaine was already hurrying away, leaving Kurt with a half empty wine glass and Blaine's jacket. Slumping his shoulders, he held a hand up to his throbbing mouth, trying not to let his eyes fill with tears. Things had been going so well, and then, like a light switch, the connection between them had shut off.

Kurt felt stupid, sitting there by himself, so he started to stand when their waiter came rushing back, a tray of food on his arm. His eyes flickered between Kurt and the empty chair, and he made a pitying sound. "I'm sorry," was all Kurt could get out, his face burning with humiliation from being left behind. "If I could, I'd like to pay now."

"Don't worry about it." The waiter said, setting the tray down. "Let me box the food up."

As the waiter went to grab the boxes, Kurt turned to Blaine's abandoned jacket. He walked over to it and picked it up, draping it over his arm. He stuck his hand into the pocket that clanged, and he grabbed the keys. When the waiter came back and forked the food into separate boxes, Kurt left as quietly as he could, trying not to draw attention to the fact that he'd arrived on the arm of a man, but was leaving alone. He couldn't even think about facing Blaine tomorrow. If he let himself dwell on the last ten minutes, and then ponder how he would handle this tomorrow, he would burst into tears.

* * *

"It was horrible." Kurt whined to his best friend, who was perched on top of his desk, his hand on his shuddering shoulder. "And the hardest thing is that the date started out so well. We were talking so easily with each other. He was polite for the entire night. He cared about what I wanted. And then… And then I asked him why he wasn't married, and he became so… so _mad_ at me. It was like I wasn't talking to the same man. He started looking at his phone, and then he jumped up and said he had to leave. He gave me his car keys… and then he _abandoned_ me. I felt mortified and… and upset. And I wanted to throw my drink at him! He was so rude!"

"Oh, honey…" Unique cooed, leaning over and bundling him in his arms. "Whether or not Blaine works out, I want you to know that not all dates are like that. You'll have some good ones, and you'll have some bad ones. Don't give up on dating because Blaine was a dud."

Kurt's eyes filled with tears, so Unique dabbed them with a tissue, "I've always wanted to have a man walk me up to my door and kiss me goodnight. The only kiss I got before he left was so rushed and… and aggressive. Unique, I don't understand. Did I say something wrong? Was it something I did? Maybe it was because I wouldn't sleep with him. Unique, you know how I feel about having sex."

"I know, Kurt." Unique squeezed his arm. "What you need is a man who feels the way you do about sex. He should be willing to respect the fact that you don't throw yourself around… not to quote your dad or anything." Unique gave him a sheepish smile, bringing up when Kurt had laughingly told him about how his dad had stumbled over his words and shrugged a lot during his first sex talk with his only son. "You know what I think, though? I think that you're a threat to Blaine."

"A-A threat? What are you saying?"

Unique shrugged, "I'm saying that, from what you told me, Blaine really cares about you. And even he might not know what to think about these feelings. Even though he left, he still made sure you had a way of getting home. And, Kurt… maybe I'm just pulling at straws, but I think that you feel the same way for him. You're wearing his jacket."

Kurt frowned at Unique, unable to deny that his best friend was right—at least about him falling very quickly for Blaine, who he had collapsed into bed and smushed his face into the pillows, sobbing with abandon because of. After several hours of not being able to sleep, Kurt had crawled from his bed and grabbed Blaine's jacket, curling into the heavy material that swallowed his petite body. Breathing the soothing scent of Blaine, Kurt had drifted off to sleep. Bringing himself back to the present, Kurt whimpered, "Unique, I'm a mess."

"I can't argue with that, hon. You haven't been this distraught since they canceled the fashion show that we had bought tickets for." Unique rubbed Kurt's quivering back, "Let's not talk about Blaine anymore. The more you think about him, the more wound up you get." Kurt had no other topics on his mind, so Unique slowly murmured, "Hey, did you hear what happened at the bank last night?"

Kurt shook his head, and Unique continued, "It was set on fire. Someone was trying to rob it. The police showed up and arrested the criminal, but the firefighters couldn't get the fire to go down. There was still a little boy trapped inside. The police say they have no lead on who it was, but some man broke in through the back of the building and carried the little boy out. He was dressed in black, and had a mask on. He left before anyone could ask him questions. It's amazing, huh?"

"Amazing." Kurt agreed softly, feeling warmth spread through him as he was reminded that some people were still good. "You know, I think I heard of something similar happening the other day. An inmate had escaped from a prison, and a masked man stopped him from getting too far."

"If only other men would take their relationships on the way that man does crime, huh? By their bootstraps." Unique teased, making Kurt laugh. "You'll be okay, honey."

"I'll do my best." Kurt promised, glimpsing over at the time and realizing that his shift had started ten minutes ago. "I guess that Blaine isn't coming in today. Oh, well. It'll give me some peace. I hope that he's getting around okay, though. I still have his car."

"He's probably good and well." Unique slid off of his desk. "He loaned it to you, after all. He knows what he's doing. I've got to get downstairs before Schuester starts barking. I'll be up in a few hours for lunch."

"Thank you, Unique." Kurt called after his best friend. Wriggling deeper into his chair, he opened his laptop and clicked on the document that he'd been developing for a few days. He typed for a good portion of the hour, when he heard a brief knock at the door. Scooting away from his desk, Kurt said, "Come in."

The slender form of his boss entered the room, taking up less than half of the doorway. "Good morning, Kurt." He said, checking Blaine's empty desk. "Didn't show up again? It's not looking good for him." He turned back to Kurt, who closed his laptop and lent his attention to his boss. "You did a very good job on your article. I look forward to whatever you're writing next." Kurt smiled at his boss, who said after a moment, "I have a new task for you, however, if you're willing to take it on. The fashion company across the city took an interest in your work. They'd like to interview you and get your opinion on certain styles."

"I'd be delighted to do that, Mr. Schuester." Kurt would be glad for the break from his workplace, if nothing else. "When would this be?"

"They would be appreciative if you would go in as soon as possible. Do you think that you could drive over there now? I'll give you an extended lunch break when you get back." Schuester offered, grinning from ear to ear when Kurt automatically stood, pulling out his phone so he could send Unique a quick text that explained that he would be a little late.

"Of course, Mr. Schuester." Kurt complied, watching his boss leave the room after he placed a sheet of paper that contained the directions to get to the building on Kurt's desk. Zipping up Blaine's jacket, Kurt hooked his arm through his bag and locked the door on his way out. He read over the directions as he paced down the hallway, oblivious to his surroundings, when his head snapped up at the sound of something crashing, the reverberations of it muffled by the thick carpet on the floor. Whirling around, Kurt stared in the direction that the alarming noise had come from, his eyes becoming huge as one of his coworkers, Rebecca, threw open her office door and came charging toward him.

She didn't say a word to him, too busy puffing for air, as she turned around a sharp corner and narrowly missed whacking her shoulder on the wall. Wondering what had startled her so terribly, Kurt took a few steps in the direction she had run from, down the hallway that was next to the one his office was in. Before he got a good look at what had happened, he jerked his head up to the ceiling, where the alarms started flashing and ringing. All at once, ten other doors came flying open, and from down another hall, he heard a shrill scream that came from behind an indiscernible door.

Trapped amidst the chaos of his coworkers pouring out of their offices, Kurt whipped around to face the way that all of them were hustling off in. As the flood of people slimmed down to a narrow trickle that was flowing past him, Kurt noticed a dark shadow off to the side, and he turned toward the large, glass windows that took up a large portion of the walls. Although he had started after his frenzied coworkers, he suddenly felt his feet become lead beneath him, stuck to the floor as if someone had smeared them in sticky tack.

Three men, covered from head to toe in gray suits, shattered the glass with their fists. Kurt felt a few of the tinier shards thwack his legs and feet, but didn't back away as the men swung their legs into the hallway. They instantly split away from each other, two of them hastening down opposite hallways, while the third one spent a second staring at Kurt, before he lunged at him and caught him in his arms. The thud of his body against Kurt's made him cry out, his arms snagged in a muscular fist and brought over his head. His other hand smashed over Kurt's lips, silencing him so that the scream that was about to rupture from him wouldn't come out. "You won't tell anyone that you saw us." He stated, his voice rough on Kurt's ears.

Kurt struggled to free himself, but was rendered helpless as the man easily raised him from the floor and carried him down a hallway. A thousand thoughts flashed through Kurt's mind as the man took him to wherever he wanted to go. All he could do was hope that someone would see them, and that he would be helped before this man could take him out of his own territory. Making stifled sounds, Kurt desperately curled his fingers, trying to scratch the man's hands. Kurt remembered when his dad had warned him about the crime rate in New York, a few words that Kurt hadn't taken to heart, because he had never thought that anything bad could happen to him. He'd lived a relatively easy and safe life in the middle of Ohio, where nothing bad ever happened. He hadn't been able to imagine himself dealing with a break-in at his home, or being snatched from the streets and dragged into a musty alleyway.

The faceless man suddenly stopped in front of a random door. He jerked it open and stepped inside, combing his eyes over the interior of it before he threw Kurt to the floor. Gasping at the sharp pain that flared in his elbow, Kurt stared up at the man, who drew a gun from the inside of his jacket, and spoke into an earpiece. "I have a hostage. Lock up the doors. Search the rooms for any documents."

Kurt's eyes flew open. "No! No! You can't do this—!" He flinched when the man drew a booted foot back, and then slammed it into his thighs. Yelping, Kurt reached down for his legs. His round eyes never strayed from the man's face, even though he wanted to check the damage done to his legs, which burned so badly that all he could do was clutch at them, unable to come up with another way to soothe the ache.

Suddenly, a garbled bunch of words came through the man's earpiece. Kurt writhed away when the man squatted down and grabbed his hair, yanking it so Kurt's head lifted. He pointed the gun at Kurt's forehead. "I have the hostage at gunpoint. Tell us where the documents are—"

All at once, the man released Kurt's hair, tumbling to the side as a long pair of arms hooked around his waist and whipped him around. He seemed so startled by the attack that he didn't hold up his hands to keep himself from slamming his face into the wall when the other man pushed him into it. Kurt gaped at the man who was dressed in black, a tight suit that clung to the chiseled muscles in his arms and legs. A long cape hung over his back, shifting around as the man raised his hand and grabbed the other man's head. He put his mouth very close to his ear as he growled, "Drop the gun, or I'll snap your neck."

Kurt's teary eyes raised to the man's head, which was covered in thick, untamed curls. "No! Don't do that!" Almost instantly, Kurt regretted speaking up, and he clamped a hand over his mouth when the man shot a look over his shoulder, revealing his masked face to Kurt. Kurt flickered his eyes over the man's eyes, which were an unrecognizable color, but appeared to be somewhere between light brown and dark green. His thin lips were frowning at Kurt, who took a few shaky breaths and pleaded, "Let… Let the police handle him. But don't hurt him anymore. Please… Please, stop."

As soon as he asked, the masked man loosened his grip on the man. He lowered his hand to his neck, which he grabbed with a firm grip, and he held him away as if he were a bag of dirty garbage. He snagged the man's earpiece and muttered into it, "The hostage is safe." He tossed the panting man aside, letting him land on his bloody face. He glared down at his wriggling form, "Don't get up, or I'll do worse to your face." He turned away from the man, and slowly approached Kurt, as if he would get up and bolt. Kurt wouldn't have gotten very far, with his leg injured, so he stayed where he was, cautiously sliding away from the man when he knelt beside of him. "It's okay. I won't hurt you."

He held out his arms, which were clothed in black nylon that moved with the texture of his skin, curving over the thick layers of muscle. Kurt unsteadily gazed into the man's eyes, which were close enough now that Kurt could see that they were hazel, nearly the color of rich gold. Unaware that he'd been trembling until the man touched him, Kurt seized up and tried to roll away from him. "Hey," the man said, placing a hand on Kurt's sweating forehead. "Shh… you're okay. I'm going to get you to safety."

Kurt realized that this man wasn't going to give up, so he merely accepted his fate, raising his arms and looping them around his neck as soon as he moved closer to him. The man slid his arms under Kurt's lower back and thighs, scooping him up as if he weighed no more than a piece of paper. Cradled against the man's pounding chest, Kurt shut his eyes, hearing raucous from outside of this safe bubble he was in with this man as the police raced in, kicking doors open and clanking their guns against their bulletproof suits.

The man walked across the room, and in a quick movement that Kurt didn't see, he unlatched the window and pushed it up. Instead of climbing up the wall and thrusting himself through the opening, the man stood there for a couple of seconds. Kurt turned his head over the man's shoulder, and tightened his arms around the man's neck when he noticed the hurt man pushing himself up to his knees. "H-He's getting up—" Kurt cried, burying his face into the man's chest, only to pull it away again when he felt a gust of wind press against him. Looking behind him, he inhaled sharply at the sight of the window becoming farther away. He turned his head down, his eyes widening to the size of saucers as he saw that the man was floating, his legs out of Kurt's line of sight. "What is this? Put me down! This can't be happening!"

Ignoring him, the man clutched him closer to his chest, his body rising higher from the ground. He soared above the buildings, until the people below them looked like small dots, all of them gathered around Kurt's workplace. He held onto the man, squeezing his eyes shut as the man flew higher. When they were nearly as high as the clouds, the man slowed down, and then came to a stop. Kurt peered through one of his eyes, finding himself floating in this man's arms, completely at his whim. He turned his head, staring up at the strong, stubbly jaw. The man abruptly lowered his face, bringing it so close to Kurt's that their eyelashes tangled when they blinked. "What did he do to you?"

Kurt opened his mouth, but could make no words. Suddenly, a rush of air wrapped around his body, so Kurt flung himself closer to the man, hiding his head under his chin. "I-I don't understand—"

"You don't have to. Just know that I will always protect you, no matter how far I am from you." Kurt was reminded of what Blaine had told him before they had their first kiss. Almost struck by a humorous thought of what face Blaine might make if Kurt tried to tell him of this crazy story, Kurt frowned, instead, remembering the last time that he had spoken to Blaine. The man holding him brushed his face against Kurt's hair, "What's wrong? You're safe in my arms."

Kurt shook his head, bringing the conversation back to the situation they were in, "W-Who are you? Why can you fly?"

"You're too curious." The man grumbled, making Kurt's cheeks turn pink. He started to apologize for being so intrusive, when the man flew them lower. "Are you alright? You were holding your leg."

"H-He kicked me. The man did. But I—" Kurt watched, amazed as the man brushed his hand over the part that Kurt had been grabbing at. He laid his hand over the bruise that the shoe had marked him with, and Kurt whimpered as the dull throb faded away, replaced by the feeling that he was fine now. Glimpsing up at his solemn face, Kurt, shaking his head, whispered, "Tell me your name."

"You don't need to know my name." The man said shortly, hoisting Kurt higher up on his chest. Turning his golden gaze down to Kurt's entranced eyes, the man flitted his eyes from side to side. Kurt batted his lashes, his vision growing fuzzy, as he held his hands up to the man's face. He touched his hollow cheeks, and then his head fell back, everything going dark.


	4. Breath of Life

Author's note: Hello! So, I wanted to inform everyone reading this that there will be a scene of sexuality coming up in the nearby chapters. I don't remember which one it is. If I didn't say it in my first chapter, this story will be rated M for language, nudity, and sexuality. Near the end of the story, there will be some scenes of violence. If you haven't guessed it, this story will be entirely from Kurt's point-of-view. I felt that there were so many movies on Superman that it was time to look into how "Lois" might feel as her boyfriend flies off all the time to fight crime. Enjoy the chapter! Reviews or favorites/follows are appreciated!

amande: Hi, there! Thank you for your review! You don't know how much it means to me :) I'm glad you like the story so far (or, I hope so, after you read the rest of the chapters). I love writing Kurt, and while Lois Lane is usually a crime/news reporter/journalist, I decided to write Kurt as a fashion journalist because it seems so much more like Kurt! In every other fic, I've made Blaine very dark and brooding, because I love mysterious and nerve wrecking heroes. I loved Blaine's personality in season two, and while I didn't watch four through six, I saw him declining into this ditzy, flighty person during season three, which is why I stopped watching. I would rather Blaine be steadily cruel, and then soften into the gentleman that he was in season two. And Unique is simply the name that I like calling Unique, in every story I've written with him in, no matter if he's in a dress or jeans. I've never referred to him as Wade. In another story, I did call him a "her", after he had a surgery, but in this story I'm simply calling him a "him" because it's simpler than switching back and forth depending on what he's wearing in each scene. I mean no offense to people who have switched genders. I couldn't support them more than I do. It's just easier for me, as a writer.

* * *

Kurt struggled out of the blankets that he had been cocooned in, his dazed eyes blinking open and orienting himself with his bedroom, which was submerged in blackness. He couldn't recall how he'd gotten himself home, when the last thing he remembered doing had been walking toward Blaine, who had asked him if he was okay. In his head, his mind was spinning around brief flashes of images—of Blaine's mouth descending onto his, of the side of Blaine's head as the man stared at the endless road ahead. And then Blaine wasn't there, when Kurt needed him, and Kurt felt a twinge of unwarranted anger toward the man who he wasn't aware had done anything that could cause Kurt to be cross with him.

Shifting around on his bed, Kurt moaned as a wave of queasiness took its toll on his stomach. He flopped back on the pillows, closing his eyes, until a deep voice muttered, "Breathe through your mouth. It'll pass." Kurt's eyes flew open as he recognized that masculine voice. Raising his head, Kurt gaped at the shadowy figure that sat in the corner, his golden eyes glowing like a cat's. Even with his shoulders slumped and his arms crossed over his chest, Blaine looked intimidatingly large, like a panther lurking around its prey's territory.

Suddenly, Kurt released a high pitched screech, gathering the blankets around his meekly clad body. Blaine lost his predatory stance, rising to his feet at once and pacing over to Kurt's side. Kurt slapped him away, his hands becoming sore as they whacked his solid chest. "Get away! How did you get in here? I'm not dressed!"

Despite Kurt's exhausting efforts, Blaine wasn't put off, and instead grabbed Kurt's wrists with one hand. He reached for Kurt's shoulder and gave him a rough shake, "Stop that!" Blaine barked, "You're wearing yourself out."

Kurt glared at Blaine, slinking away from him when he lowered onto the edge of the bed. After he'd settled down, it all came hurtling back to him, and he whimpered, "Why am I home? I don't remember anything. I was… I was at work, and _you_ were there! You asked if I was okay. I just… I just can't—"

"You fell, Kurt." Blaine said simply, placing a hand on the bump where his knee had appeared. Kurt jerked it away from him. "You hit your head. After I made sure that you were okay, you passed out. I took you home."

"You… helped me?" Astonished by the action that seemed to be above Blaine's level of compassion, Kurt fidgeted until his rigid back was aligned with the wall behind his bed. Blaine cocked his head at Kurt, his eyes darkening as he thoroughly looked him over. Kurt's bottom lip quivered, "Why do you stare at me so intensely?"

Blaine frowned, his eyes flickering with a consuming emotion that Kurt didn't identify, before it was gone again, replaced by the glaze that concealed desolation. "I don't know why." Raising his dark head, Blaine gave Kurt a morose look, as if he'd just been told that the love of his life had darted into traffic. "You're such a tiny thing, to affect me this much."

"A-Affect you?" Kurt said shakily. He shut his eyes when Blaine held his large hand out, cupping it over the roundness of his cheek. The heat of that scratchy hand seeped into his skin, which he hadn't noticed had been so cold that he'd been shaking. All he could do was press his face into Blaine's weathered palm. When he opened his eyes, he found the corners of them glistening with wetness. He didn't understand what was occurring between them, these bouts of irrepressible attraction that came up when they least expected it, when they were flailing to get away from each other. "I affect you, Blaine?"

He saw Blaine's chest rattle as he scraped one knee over the rumpled bed sheets, pushing himself higher onto Kurt's bed, until he was sitting on his knees and knuckles. Kurt took a shaky breath, as well, whipping his face away when Blaine crept closer to him, his wide chest obstructing his view of anything else in his bedroom, of the reality that was outside of Blaine. Kurt smelled the outdoorsy cologne that Blaine had spritzed onto himself, putting concentrated pools of it above his collarbones and under his chin. Blaine swung his leg over Kurt's hips, making the smaller boy sink into his mattress to avoid his touch. "You move me, Kurt." Blaine grunted, the airiness in his voice making Kurt turn his head. Blaine hovered above his shivering body, his curls spilling over his forehead. His pupils had expanded and swallowed up his yellow irises, and his lips were slightly curled, as if something animalistic was tearing him apart at the seams.

Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck, his oval nails scratching red, puffy lines into Blaine's skin through the material of his shirt. Blaine's weight descended onto his squirming body. Gasping, Kurt unconsciously hooked his feet around Blaine's ankles, feeling his masculine length as it settled over him. His clothes crinkled as Kurt bunched them in his fists. He was almost embarrassed with himself when he thought about what Blaine would feel like, stripped naked, all of his muscle pressing down on Kurt. Kurt, who Blaine must have undressed when he'd laid him down on the bed, pressed upward at Blaine, his underwear riding up his thighs. All Kurt had on to cover his chest was a thin tank top, which had folded up around the middle. Kurt's bare stomach rubbed the buttons on the front of Blaine's shirt. He whimpered softly, hardly mindful of anything that was going on around him, when he felt Blaine's breath on his lips.

His scrunched eyes snapped open, and he found himself face to face with Blaine, who was huffing raggedly, his lips gnawed and irritated. "Can I kiss these plump, pink lips that I have to spend every day eyeing from across the room? Watching you swipe your tongue across them to moisten them? And lick after you get a drink of water? And when a crumb falls onto them… and I have to keep myself from lunging across my desk and rubbing my mouth over them?"

Kurt shuddered at the raspy, bold words, his eyes becoming larger as he stared up at Blaine, who looked like nothing less than a starved, deranged man about to devour his first meal. A zing of pleasure hit Kurt's lower belly, making his eyes roll back. He had never seen a man look that way because of him before… so hungry, so desperate. Kurt knew that, with one word, he could have Blaine ripping out of his clothes and pounding Kurt into the mattress. Sucking in his lips, Kurt weighed the consequences of every decision very carefully. Despite how much he wanted Blaine, to the point that he felt like he was suffocating to have his first breath of air, Kurt raised his hand and pressed it to Blaine's chest. "N-No." He said, the word coming out like a question. Blaine instantly rocked backwards, his face hardening. "If you want to kiss me, you have to take me out on a proper date. Be a gentleman, and pick me up on time, and hold my hand, and show an interest in me. And _then_ I will consider kissing you."

Blaine sat back on his heels, removing most of the pressure from Kurt's chest, "Kurt… you think I'm not interested in you? Has it not been obvious?"

Kurt curled his legs up, turning slightly on his side—the way he laid when he slept. "Blaine, you haven't been obvious about much of anything. You've said very little to me… and then… then I fell, and you carried me into my apartment. And now… now you're here, in my bed. It might be my lack of experience, but I think that anyone would be confused by you."

Blaine chose his next words very carefully, "Kurt, I… I'm sorry." Moving off of Kurt, Blaine sat down beside of him. He idly plucked at a loose string on Kurt's comforter. The position they were in, despite being a few inches apart, was surprisingly intimate to Kurt, who had never had a conversation with anyone in his bed before. "I'm not… I'm not as good at this as I should be. I'm not open with new people. But I… I've been enticed by you since the first time I laid eyes on you. And then you were good to me, even though I had been nothing more than an asshole to you. I just… I want you. All of you… your conversations… your body." Blaine's eyes roamed over Kurt's chest, which the blankets had fallen down. He cleared his throat, "You're too beautiful for your own good. No… don't shake your head. You can't deny that you are absolutely exquisite."

After Blaine finished speaking, Kurt opened his mouth as a soft yawn slipped out of it. He tugged at Blaine's sleeve, "Stay the night with me. It's too late for you to be driving home."

Blaine chuckled at some unknown thought, and he started pulling at the buttons on his shirt. "Honey, it's not even ten. And I won't be able to stay over for the whole night."

Kurt buried his face in his pillow, feeling Blaine lay down beside of him, shirt open, but still hanging off of his arms. "Stay for as long as you can, then. I like having you here. You're comforting." Blaine slid an arm around Kurt's waist, drawing him impossibly deeper into his beating chest. Another yawn broke out of Kurt, who rolled over and snuggled into Blaine. "And you don't get to call me pet names until after our first date."

"You put a lot of pressure on this first date, don't you?" Blaine laughed, the vibrations ricocheting through Kurt's body, as he drifted off to the sound of Blaine's pounding heart. "I'm going to romance your pants off, Kurt."

Kurt wanted to make a comment about how Blaine was too arrogant, and hadn't even gotten his first kiss yet, but he was already asleep, nestled in the crook of Blaine's arm.

* * *

When Kurt awoke the following morning, he eased himself up slowly, rather than all at once, and frantically felt around for his alarm clock. Rubbing his eyes, Kurt peeked around his room and found the curtains drawn apart, letting in large pools of sunlight. Across the room, his bird twittered and pattered around his cage, hopping from his food bowl to a branch to the bedding at the bottom. He scuffled his feet through the material, drawing Kurt's sleepy, unfocused attention over to him. Mornings were when Pavarotti was most active, when he was feeling rested and motivated by food. "Good morning, Pavarotti. Do you want to stretch your wings?" Kurt's voice was heavy, and when he slid from beneath his blankets and thumped his feet to the floor, he felt as if he weighed five hundred pounds.

Waddling over to his dresser, Kurt started to open Pavarotti's cage, when he noticed a slip of paper lying beside of it. He reached for it, but Pavarotti's beak clacked against the metal bars as he chewed on them, so Kurt quickly opened it and held his hand out. Pavarotti popped onto his palm and bowed his head, his wings spreading out and flapping a few times. Although Pavarotti's cage was large enough to fit two more birds, he dramatically acted as if he was being squished in its confinement if he was left in it for too long. Briefly forgetting about the note, Kurt picked up the bag of birdseed and reached into the cage for Pavarotti's bowl, when he hesitated, counting a number of seeds that hadn't been cracked open.

"Did Blaine feed you, Pavarotti?" Kurt asked his bird, who stuck his legs behind him, one at a time, and curled and uncurled his toes. He seemed unresponsive to the bag of food, so Kurt set it down. "He must have left recently, then. Let's see about this note." Setting his bird on the floor, he watched him strut away, going after a stray ball that Kurt had bought for him to play with around the apartment. Pavarotti nosed it around, making the bell within it jingle. Taking the note with him, Kurt returned to his bed and sank onto the edge of it. He unfolded the note and read, _Good morning, Kurt. I fed your bird in case you slept in. Dalton is closed for the week—reconstruction. Stay in today. Relax. I picked up what was in your desk and left it on your counter. A strawberry muffin and orange juice are in your fridge. I put my number in your phone. Call me whenever; we can plan a date for this weekend. Thank you for last night. I'll see you soon—Blaine._

Kurt had just finished reading the last word, and was oblivious to the silly smile on his face, when Pavarotti, who had climbed up the side of his bed, snatched the note and shook it back and forth. Kurt glowered at his bird, "Oh, Pavarotti! You're just like my dad… disapproving of any man I see romantically." Pavarotti, satisfied with the amount of shredding he'd done to the piece of paper, chirped up at Kurt, who smiled fondly and shook his head, stroking the bird's head. "I'm glad that Blaine thought to put his number on my phone, instead of on the piece of paper. Don't worry, little one. No man will ever replace you. I would kick him to the curb if he didn't approve of my Pavarotti."

He perched his tiny bird on his shoulder, feeling his claws inch their way over to the curve of his neck. Pavarotti nuzzled his fuzzy face into Kurt's cheek, a low, humming noise rumbling out of him as Kurt turned his head, kissing him. "How could I ever need any other man when I have my Pavarotti?" Kurt cooed, "But you would be pretty terrible at relationship advice, so I guess we'll be having Unique over. You like Unique, huh? When he babysits you, he always gives you more treats than you need. He's why you've got this big gut."

* * *

An hour later, Kurt was finishing massaging his moisturizer into his face when he heard a jarring knock at the door. Peeling away from his mirror, Kurt almost backed into Pavarotti so he could get a good view into his living room. Almost two seconds later, the banging was louder, and lasted longer. "Kurt! Let me in!"

Kurt rolled his eyes at the sound of Unique's voice, snapping the moisturizer bottle closed. "Unique, the door is unlocked." He called, and watched with huge eyes as his best friend barreled into the room, a pair of sweatpants dragging off of his feet, with a loose jacket halfway zipped up on his shoulders. Kurt smiled at his best friend, who was panting and rubbing his hands over his crusty face. "What a statement you're making. Did you just wake up?"

Unique frowned, "Yes! And I _ran_ here, because New York traffic is always backed up, and I needed to get here _immediately._ " He hurried over to Kurt, who had been wiping off his hands, and grabbed his shoulders. "The fashion statement I'm making is that my best friend, totally out of the blue, called me and told me that he's going on a date. My best friend, who _never_ goes on dates. Who _never_ shows an interest in anyone. Who _never—_ " Unique cut himself off, just before Kurt could speak up that he'd made his point. He scratched his head, "Who is he, anyway? And where did you meet him? You met a man _without_ me? Kurt, I'm supposed to be your guidance… your conscience. I have to tell you who's cute and who's not—"

Kurt shook his head at Unique, "Unique, you have to breathe before your face turns purple. Come… let's sit down, and I'll explain everything. This is going to be difficult for you to understand." Ushering Unique into the living area, he sat him down on the couch and lowered beside of him. Pavarotti wobbled after them, and then started pawing at one of his toys. Kurt took a deep, shaky breath, having had some trouble of his own of accepting that Blaine was trying to start a romantic relationship with him. He told Unique about what had happened last night, leaving out the part when Blaine had climbed on top of him, and watched his jaw fall farther and farther down as the story progressed. Finally, he pulled out the note, which was missing its corner, and had Pavarotti's saliva smeared over it, and he handed it to Unique. "He left me… this. What do I do, Unique?"

As Unique read over the remains of the note, he became so flustered that all he could do was wave his hand up and down. "Kurt!" He exclaimed after he finished reading,  
"What do you mean, what do you do? You do _him!_ "

Kurt blushed at the crude suggestion, "Unique! I'm being serious." He took the note back, "I meant… when am I supposed to call him? What should I say?"

Unique laughed excitedly, "Kurt, you have to call him now!" He picked up Kurt's phone and pushed it into his hands. "Call him. Call him _now._ "

"Now?" Kurt's eyes widened. "But… I don't want him to think that I'm desperate. Maybe I should give him a day."

"Kurt, he slept over here last night. He brought you your stuff from work _and_ left you breakfast. This guy is so in to you that it even hurts _me_ to hear you say that. I mean, you didn't even let him kiss you last night. You have to call him soon, or else he might think that you're not as in to him as he is in to you." As if he had a sudden epiphany, Unique clapped his hands together and pointed at the phone. "If you don't want to be obvious about following up on the date, just tell him that you're calling to thank him for bringing you your things and breakfast. Play it cool. Let _him_ bring up the date. If he's a gentleman, and doesn't want to leave you hanging, he definitely will."

Kurt giggled with his best friend, "Unique, what would I ever do without you?"

"Not have a date, that's for sure." Unique put in, making a smile crinkle up Kurt's mouth. Kurt hesitantly turned on his phone, and he scrolled through his contacts. Although he knew that Blaine had put his number in, it still gave him a jolt of surprise to see Blaine's name on the screen. He looked up at Unique, who winked and urged him on with a gesture of his hands. Biting his lip, Kurt clicked to call Blaine, and felt Unique violently shake his shoulder. "Put it on speakerphone!"

Shushing his enthusiastic friend, Kurt hit another button, and felt his heart skip a beat when the other line picked up. "Kurt?" Blaine's gruff voice said, and Unique opened his mouth, a strangled noise coming out of him. Kurt swatted his shoulder, and Unique quickly stuffed a fist into his mouth, smothering all other unattractive sounds.

Feeling his face become hot, Kurt turned back to his phone and blurted, "Hi… Blaine. I just…" his voice faded away, and he glanced back over at Unique, who mouthed something to him. He finished quickly, "Thank you… for, um… the muffin and juice. They were delicious. A-And for bringing me my work. That was very nice of you. You didn't have to do that."

Blaine's voice softened, "It was no trouble, Kurt. I'm glad you enjoyed your breakfast. You'll have to tell me your regular order, so I can pick it up for you before work. Maybe we can even go together sometime." Kurt wanted to express to Blaine how much he would like that, but then figured it might be best if he didn't because his voice would probably sound anxious, when Blaine cleared his throat. "But, listen, Kurt… what we talked about yesterday—"

Unique clamped his hands down on Kurt's arm, scooting closer to him, as if having his head hovering just above the phone wasn't near enough for him to hear anything. Kurt held his breath in anticipation of what Blaine was about to tell him. "I would… really like to take you out this weekend. Are you open?"

Kurt felt as if all of his blood had rushed to his head. His trembling fingers lost their grip on his phone, which almost slipped like sand through them. "Y-Yes. Is Friday night too soon?"

"Friday is perfect." Blaine said smilingly. "Can I pick you up at five? There's this amazing place that I want to take you to. Nowhere in New York looks more beautiful than it when the sun is setting."

"That sounds wonderful." Kurt murmured gently, wincing as Unique's fingers dug into his skin. "I'm looking forward to it, Blaine."

"Me, too, Kurt." Blaine muttered. "I'll see you in a few days."

As soon as Kurt clicked the call off, he was smacked by a screeching Unique, who had hardly contained himself. Kurt laughed as his best friend pinned him in his arms and swung him back and forth. "Don't break me, Unique! I don't want my first date to be in a hospital."

"You have a _date!_ A _date!_ And you don't even have an outfit picked out yet—"

"Unique, the date is a few days away. And it seems like he's going to take me somewhere outdoors. I'll pick out a nice sweater and a pair of jeans—"

Unique shot an accusing glare at him, "Where's the Kurt Hummel spirit? You're not going to reuse any of your clothes for this. You have to surprise him with a new outfit… make his mouth fall open. We're going shopping."

Kurt sighed, remembering how often he went shopping while he was in high school, only to have all of his extravagant outfits scoffed at and slowly worn to mere pieces of thread after so many times of having them grabbed by kids who were bigger than him. Back then, he'd also used any extra money his dad gave him, in hopes that Kurt would invite a couple of friends to a movie, or go to dinner with someone. Instead, Kurt had gone out by himself, and shopped. Now that he lived in an expensive city like New York, his shopping trips were much more infrequent, and usually happened only when his family came up to visit and Carole took him out for the day. Kurt shook his head at his best friend, only to have Unique give him another pep talk. "Do you even know what's at stake? You could have your first kiss—"

Kurt suddenly spoke up, "Unique, what if he doesn't like me… as much as he thinks he does? What if… we spend some personal time together, and he thinks… that I'm just a little too gay for him?"

Unique sighed, his shoulders lowering. His face became solemn, "Kurt… hey…" he placed his fingers under Kurt's chin, "Blaine isn't from your high school. Blaine lives in New York. He knows that you're a fashion journalist. He knows what he's getting himself into. Kurt, you are a beautiful, intelligent, accomplished boy. Don't count yourself out before he even gets to know you. You two could be meant for each other. There's a reason that, out of all of the men who have asked you out, you accepted him, isn't there?"

Kurt smiled, "Maybe you're right, Unique. I shouldn't assume the worst of him. He's probably a very nice man."

"There you go! At least we know that he's just as gay as you are." Kurt must have looked confused, because Unique made a giant motion with his hand, "Kurt, he bought you a _strawberry_ muffin. He could have gone with… oh, I don't know… anything else! But he got a _strawberry_ muffin. Why doesn't he just bring you Patti LuPone's memoir and every Barbra Streisand movie—?"

Kurt covered his best friend's mouth, "Let's go shopping, Unique, before you hurt yourself."

Unique narrowed his eyes at him, stretching off of the couch after Kurt stood up, "The only one who's going to get hurt is you, if I'm not the first one to know about the date. As soon as you get home, call me. I'll want to know if he held your hand, when and how he kissed you, and where he took you. If you don't call me Friday night, I'm going to assume that he either kidnapped you, or you're sleeping with him."

"Yes, yes." Kurt said exasperatingly, scooping up his bird and placing him on his shoulder. "You'll be the first to know."

"I feel like you're not listening to me. I have good advice for you, Hummel. If he tries to stick his tongue down your throat during your first kiss, he's just in it for sex. Don't let him do that, unless you're into it."

"Got it. No tongue."

Following Kurt out of his apartment, Unique smiled wryly at Kurt, and wrapped an arm around him. "Have a good time on your first date, hon. It'll be great. I thought this day would never come." But then Unique flicked his shoulder, which his hand had been resting on. "But I was serious about the tongue thing."


	5. Heavy In Your Arms

Kurt was checking his tenth text from Unique, who was telling him that a man who held his hand was at the maturity level of a high school student, but a man who hooked his arm around his waist had serious intentions, when a knock on his door made him jerk his head up. He checked the time and saw that it was ten minutes before Blaine said he would be over, and even though he was a little embarrassed because his hair still wasn't up in a coif, he was flattered that Blaine made the effort to not only be on time, but be early.

He hurried away from his mirror and went to the door, pulling it open. Blaine, dressed in a black button up that was tucked into a pair of black slacks, was leaning in the doorway, a picture of nonchalance. Kurt's eyes widened slightly at the sight of him, and he felt the wind blow out of him. In the past few days that he hadn't been going into work, he'd almost forgotten how handsome and dark Blaine really was. Blaine held out a bouquet of red roses, another sight that made Kurt open and close his mouth like a speechless fish. "Hi, Kurt." Blaine muttered, peeling off of the wall and taking a step toward Kurt. Kurt breathed in the strong cologne that he always sprayed himself with. "I'm sorry that I'm early. I didn't check the time until I got up here."

"You're fine." Kurt waved that off, simply glad to see Blaine. Taking the bouquet from Blaine, Kurt held it up to his nose and took a whiff. "Mm… these are beautiful. I've always favored red roses. Thank you." Automatically winding his arms around Blaine, Kurt reveled in the feeling of his large, vital body. "If you'll just give me a minute, I'll finish doing my hair. Please, make yourself at home." Kurt led Blaine back into his apartment, which Blaine finally took the time to investigate, his eyes sweeping over the room. Kurt went into the kitchen and gathered a vase from under his sink, and he filled it with water. Placing the flowers in it, he set those in the window and took a moment to look at them.

When he turned back around, he almost ran into Pavarotti, who he'd let roam around for a few hours, while Kurt lounged on the couch and read one of his books. "Oh! You're getting hungry, aren't you, Pavarotti?"

"Pavarotti, huh?" Blaine said from the living room, the sound of his voice making Kurt jump. Kurt would never get used to having him here. After Kurt picked his bird up, he offered Blaine a winning smile. "It's just the name I'd expect you to give him."

"And what kind of name is that?" Kurt carried his bird back into the living room.

"A powerful and eccentric name, of course. Nothing less than the name of a worldly and talented musician."

Kurt's smile widened, "You listen to Pavarotti's music? I thought that I was one of few."

"You are." Blaine agreed, "But I'm one of the few, too." Leaning forward, Blaine suddenly captured Kurt's moving form in his arms, and he drew him back. He slowly swayed them from side to side, "Maybe I'll have to take you dancing one night, and we can listen to Pavarotti."

Kurt started to close his eyes, his body melting into Blaine's chest, as Blaine's hands slid down his shoulders and wrapped around his thin arms. Blaine's breath sank into his ear, making him shiver at the warm, moist puffs. But they fluttered open once more when Pavarotti chirped. He carefully untangled himself from Blaine's grip, "That would be lovely." As he turned, he knew that his face was the color of the roses, and the carefree smile on Blaine's lips made it that much darker. Before he could say another word, Pavarotti twittered again, coming up with a short, airy song that Blaine chuckled at.

He scratched the top of the yellow bird's head, "Do you remember me, Pavarotti? I'm the man that you nipped at."

Kurt gasped, "He did? Oh, Blaine, he didn't mean it. He's never bitten anyone. He's always been that way with anyone he doesn't know."

Blaine shook his head, "Don't worry about it, Kurt. No harm was done. I think he was cross with me because I was with you. He's protective over you, as well he should be." He flicked his golden eyes up to Kurt's face, "Why don't I feed him? Maybe I can reason with him through food."

Kurt laughed, cautiously handing the bird over to Blaine. Pavarotti hesitantly hopped onto Blaine's palm, and he lowered his head, sniffing around his hand to see if he had any seeds. "Food is his undoing. His heart is in his stomach."

"He's a bird that understands my daily plight." Taking the bird into Kurt's bedroom, Blaine remained unaware of Kurt's unblinking gaze on his back. After Blaine put Pavarotti in his cage, he glanced back at Kurt, who shook himself out of his trance. Blaine smiled again, a look that took away Kurt's ability to think. "You look beautiful, by the way. I like your hair when it falls over your forehead."

Kurt reached up to his head, feeling his hair, which didn't have any product in it yet. "Oh… thank you." He said unsurely, heading into his bedroom and resuming his position in front of the mirror. From the corner of his eye, he saw Blaine fiddling with the bag of birdseed. "This is the way I used to wear my hair during my early years of high school. And then I figured out how to use hair products. Putting my hair up makes my face look so much thinner."

Kurt's eyes flickered to the side when Blaine appeared behind him in the mirror. He sat down on the edge of the bed, watching Kurt toy with the brown strands. Feeling self-conscious, Kurt started to open his mouth when Blaine spoke up very quietly, "I think that you're lovely no matter how you wear your hair."

Kurt shook his head at the outrageous slew of compliments coming out of Blaine's mouth. "You don't… have a filter, do you? Or boundaries. You know, my dad used to watch my mom get ready. He'd sit behind her, and watch her with these lovelorn eyes, as if there were nothing more beautiful than her."

"I have boundaries with people I don't know." Blaine rectified, "But, if I like someone, I keep them close to me."

Kurt swallowed at his choice of words, knowing that he'd said them with purpose. If he were to fall in love with this man, and Blaine with him, it'd be very difficult for Kurt to ever be alone again. Working the cream into his hair, Kurt styled it precisely and neatly, and then turned to Blaine, revealing the finished product. "Do I look okay?"

During their shopping spree, Kurt and Unique had pieced together an outfit that included a gray, baggy sweater that buttoned up, and hung halfway down his thighs, over a pair of black skinny jeans. Under the sweater, he'd donned a black tank top, the material frayed at the edges, and cut into various shapes. A pair of tan, buckled boots covered his feet. Wound around his long neck was a silky, black scarf, the ends of which trailed down his back. Blaine shamelessly raked his eyes over Kurt's body, drinking him in like a thirsty man. "Gorgeous." He breathed through his teeth, slowly raising his eyes to Kurt's face. "But you didn't need to ask me that, did you?"

Kurt overlooked his last remark, figuring that he would simply have to get used to Blaine's bluntness. Even Unique didn't speak so freely with him. Picking up his wallet and phone, Kurt stuck them into his back pocket, and drifted over to Pavarotti's cage. "Be good, little one. I'll be home in a few hours. Don't wait up for me."

When Kurt spun around, he found that Blaine had stood up, a fond smile on his lips. "How did you get him?"

Taking Blaine's offered hand, Kurt started to tell the story that he bragged about to all of his friends, but stopped himself when Blaine shrugged out of his jacket and laid it over Kurt's shoulders. "It's a little chilly." He hummed in Kurt's ear.

"You won't get cold?" Kurt slipped his hands into the bulky sleeves, his arms not stretching far enough down for his fingers to appear on the other side. Blaine shook his head, so Kurt softly thanked him, and then said, "Pavarotti was a gift from my dad. He was a birthday present when I turned eighteen. When my dad adopted him from the shelter, he was just a baby… no bigger than a cotton ball, and just a pile of fluff. He's been with me for… let's see… goodness, four years now. We're inseparable. He's my best friend… my spoiled, little prince. Do you have any pets, Blaine?"

Blaine shook his head, "No… uh, I'm just not home enough to give enough of my attention to a pet. Most of my work involves… intensive research at the scene. It takes long hours of my day."

"You mean, you go to the crime scene directly? Isn't that dangerous?"

Blaine haphazardly shrugged, "Not if you do it the right way." Opening the door for Kurt, Blaine took an unsteady breath, his face becoming grim. "Let's not talk about my work right now. It can bog any conversation down." He placed his hand on Kurt's waist and nudged him into an elevator. "I want to talk about you." Sliding over to Kurt's side after he pushed a button, Blaine flicked a pair of inquisitive eyes over his reddened face. Kurt felt Blaine's thumb scrape over the shell of his ear, as his other hand touched Kurt's hip. "Tell me… what you wanted to be when you were little."

Kurt huffed out a chuckle, "Way to be generic, Blaine. While we're at it, my favorite color is gold, and, no, I don't like the snow. I thought that journalists were supposed to ask the pressing questions."

"Are you mocking me?" Blaine almost sounded offended, and the look on his face made Kurt burst out laughing. "You are! All this time, you were fooling me! You're actually mean!" Kurt helplessly squealed as Blaine coiled his arms around his waist, drawing their bodies flush together as if they were magnetized toward each other. He fit perfectly against Blaine's body, his chest pressing into Blaine's, and his arms winding around his neck. Once he had a good grip on Kurt, Blaine stopped moving around, and held completely still. Kurt laid his cheek on Blaine's shoulder, his batting eyes settling on the exposed part of Blaine's throat. "I'm being serious, Kurt. No child ever wants to become a journalist. What did you want to do?"

Kurt pressed his face into the fabric of Blaine's shirt, his fingers curling into the creased material. "No… I did. I knew that I wanted to be a fashion journalist. It's always been what I've wanted. From a young age, I've had a knack for fashion. Expressing myself through clothing is what makes me happiest. And… I like to write. Those words that I can't express in person… all of the things I wanted to say to the people who… who hurt me during high school… I could write them down later, and remind myself that I was the stronger person when I realized that I pitied them." Clinging tighter to Blaine, Kurt whispered into the side of his neck, "Blaine… what did you want to be? When you were just a child."

Blaine turned his head when the elevator doors slid open. Kurt heard the gasps of the people who had caught them in their close embrace, and could only let Blaine haul him out, unable to meet their shocked faces. Blaine held him for several more seconds, and then drew away, rubbing his hand up and down Kurt's back. Kurt peeked up at his solemn face, his eyes warm and inviting. Blaine was more relaxed now than Kurt had ever seen him. "I guess I never thought about what I wanted when I was a kid. Growing up, I didn't have much of a say in what I was supposed to do. I don't mind what I do… There's nothing that makes me happier than helping people. But sometimes I just… I want to stop, Kurt. I'm thirty four years old… I shouldn't be living alone in an apartment. I want to be married, and have a child, and a nice home. But… it's not possible. I don't know if it ever will be."

Although Kurt had assumed that there was more to Blaine than what he let out on the surface, and had just had all of his postulations fed to him from a silver spoon, Kurt decided to not make an example of them because he knew that Blaine would only pull away. Resting his hands on Blaine's shoulders, Kurt murmured, "Could I take your woes away for the night?" Blaine shifted off of Kurt, his hazel eyes searching Kurt's smiling face.

The grave look on his face finally broke, "I'd really like that, Kurt. Come on. I don't want to miss the sunset." Wrapping his arm around Kurt's waist, Blaine guided him out of the apartment complex and into the brisk breeze, the scenery around them washed a brilliant pink as the sun made its descent. Before they went too far, Blaine stopped again, the glimmer replenished in his eye, "You're easy to talk to, Kurt."

Kurt's chest compressed at the peaceful expression on Blaine's face, his curls blowing back, and his skin tinted gold. "I'm here for you, Blaine. Always." He giggled when Blaine picked up his steps, dragging him down the sidewalk by the tips of his fingers. At this time of night, this side of New York was an abandoned ship, sinking into the empty blackness of the night. Kurt had chosen this apartment for that reason, knowing that he would never sleep if, outside of his window, people shouted and car horns blared.

To Kurt's surprise, Blaine veered off down a pebbly sidewalk, which was laid under a canopy of rustling trees. This was close to the route that Kurt took to work every morning, but instead of spilling out into the city, this trail led to a secluded park, which could become very crowded during the weekends. Kurt had only been to it twice, when he'd needed some fresh air and some time to himself, and had sat on a bench, gazing straight ahead of him, at nothing. Those two instances had occurred after some of his former classmates had called him, making a point to brag about how much more successful they'd been, than a journalist from a small magazine. After all, he hadn't even made it to the New York Times, which was the only news anyone actually bothered themselves with.

When they came up to a shattered part of the concrete, Blaine lifted him up and set him down on the other side. Kurt returned his hand to Blaine's, "The park? What are we doing here? I didn't think that you knew about the park."

"Of course I do." Slowing his steps down, Blaine brought Kurt to a stop just before they reached the fountain, which held a large statue of someone important plunked in the middle of it, water spewing from his open mouth. "It's the only place that a crime journalist can get some peace. Don't roll your eyes, but… I put something together for the two of us. Come here." Kurt didn't have to be told twice, dawdling after Blaine as he drew him around to the other side of the statue.

A wide grin creased Kurt's mouth at the sight of a blue blanket that had been spread across the marbled linoleum. On top of it sat another pile of flowers—this one an assortment of blue, round lilacs, and the teardrop shaped petals of honeysuckle. Beside of the flowers was a yellow basket, the lid snapped shut. Kurt held a hand up to his mouth, taking a moment to capture the scene in his head. The wispy wind whispered love words in his ears, making his heart constrict much more violently as it seemed to push him toward Blaine. The trees blanketed their forms, hiding them away from the rest of the world, in this hushed bubble that Kurt didn't want to pop. And then Kurt dared a glance at the gorgeous man who had taken him here, and Kurt realized that none of the scenery mattered. Blaine could have taken him to a swamp, and the feelings swirling around inside of him would have been the same.

Something warm pooled in his lower belly as their eyes met. Like static coming into contact with someone's hand, the air between them crackled, making Kurt's insides buzz. He wasn't aware that either of them had walked forward, until Blaine's powerful arms hooked around him. Kurt sighed at the contact, his head falling back. Nothing had felt more right than being trapped against Blaine's broad chest. Wrapping his arms around Blaine's center, Kurt shut his eyes, feeling Blaine slowly lower them to the ground. Kurt somehow ended up curled in the opening between Blaine's legs, his head lolling on his chest. Kurt hummed as Blaine scraped his fingertips over his small jaw, and down the slope of his neck. "How did you know that I all but melt for the traditional kind of romance?"

"I just did." Blaine mumbled, stretching over Kurt's limp body so he could pry the top of the basket off. "Pick what you'd like. I made plenty. Do you like cinnamon doughnuts? I think that they're delicious."

Kurt peeled open one eye, "You know how to cook? And make doughnuts? I'm impressed."

Blaine chuckled gruffly, "No… I made just a few things. I can cook very little. My specialty is toast and jelly." Picking up a sugary, speckled doughnut, Blaine held it up to Kurt's mouth and watched him lazily bite into the round treat. Sprinkles of white dust clung to his lips, which he ran his tongue over. Beneath him, Blaine groaned lowly, his eyes trained on the tip of Kurt's tongue.

Kurt giggled up at Blaine, his body shaking within Blaine's grasp. "If you're this good to me through the whole date, I will kiss you." Greedily reaching for another doughnut, Kurt popped it into his mouth, making one of his cheeks swell. "And if I can have five more of these, I'll give you two kisses."

Suddenly, Blaine lay back on the blanket, staring up at the colorful, streaky sun. Kurt scooted closer to him, tucking his legs beneath him, as he held a powdery doughnut above Blaine's mouth. Blaine took the doughnut from his hand, his eyes drifting shut as Kurt dusted the crumbs from his mouth with his fingertips. Kurt's stomach, which was twisting around like a rung-out rag, felt full, and Kurt no longer found himself focused on the food. He draped his upper half across Blaine's chest, counting the beats of his heart. "Blaine?" Kurt squeaked, still running his fingers over Blaine's sweetened mouth. Blaine made an acknowledging noise, so Kurt continued in a faint whisper, "What is it that you want out of dating me?"

Blaine cracked open his eyes, one of his hands sliding up the small of Kurt's back. "I don't know, Kurt." He said honestly. "The way that I feel for you… I've never felt this way for anyone else. I like being near you. You're so beautiful and kind and soft." He curved his hand around one of Kurt's pointy hips. "Tell me what you want."

"I want to be with you." The words slipped out of Kurt before he could stop them, and the next thing he felt was Blaine's mouth pressing over his. Whimpering, Kurt curled his fingers in Blaine's shirt, his lips instantly parting. Blaine poked his tongue against Kurt's small rows of teeth, and then slid it in farther. The tip of it brushed Kurt's, and it became a battle for dominance, their teeth clacking and lips sucking as both of them desperately tried to get as close to each other as humanly possible. When the need for air became too much, Kurt pulled away with a sharp gasp, his lips trembling and burning as Blaine suckled and nibbled on his jaw. "Oh… Blaine."

"It's too much for me." Blaine hissed, his arms urgently gathering Kurt up, and hooking around his bottom. He hauled Kurt closer to him, sealing their bodies together. "I have to have you. Ever since I met you, I couldn't stand to part from you. Please… let me claim you. Please, Kurt. It pains me to feel you leave my arms."

Kurt wasn't sure if he would have changed his mind had his head been clearer, but all he could moan was some form of agreement. When his eyelids lifted, he discovered that the sun had completely retreated, leaving the new couple to grope for each other with only slivers of the moonlight creeping through the trees. As he pushed slightly away from his new boyfriend, Kurt made a soft sound of uncertainty, and murmured, "Do you… w-want to sleep w-with me again? My b-bed has enough room for both of us." Kurt had hardly finished his thought, when Blaine kissed him as a response, an urgent, firm kiss that sent Kurt reeling for some grip on reality. Blaine yanked away from him a second later, his lips reddened and thick, but then Kurt was pulling him back, tugging on his curls and rubbing his mouth across Blaine's, trying to make him understand the aching feelings that Kurt had thought were once unrequited. Kurt's head was spinning with the insistence that his boyfriend kissed him with, as if he was trying to make Kurt see the same thing that they had both hidden away for weeks.

* * *

Within the hour, Kurt slunk back into the lobby of his apartment complex, the clock on the wall ticking towards nine. By New York's standards, the night had just begun, but because Kurt's dad had insisted that he pick a quiet apartment where most of its aging residents retired to bed in the late hours of the evenings, the woman at the front desk gave Kurt a suspicious stare. In the past four years that he'd spent here, the only man he'd ever snuck in this late had been Unique, when one of his boyfriends broke it off over the phone, and Unique had called him, sobbing and begging for Kurt's company and some ice cream.

Blushing furiously under her assuming eyes and slightly arched brow, Kurt dragged Blaine into an elevator, where a burble of laughter finally snorted out of him. Kurt glared up at him, knowing exactly what Blaine was stupidly smirking about. "You look adorable with your cheeks pink like that."

Kurt's blush deepened, and he crossed his arms snugly over his chest, "You only look so arrogant because you know that you're the first man that I'm bringing home." Blaine didn't bother to deny that, both of his brows rising as Kurt huffed. "I've lived here for four years, Blaine. Everybody knows me. They know that I don't bring men home. They'll think… They'll think that we're having…" Kurt couldn't bring himself to say the word, his eyes reluctantly exploring Blaine's large, demanding body. Even though he was a few inches taller than him, Kurt would always feel smaller than Blaine.

Blaine finished for him, "They'll think that we're having… sex. But isn't that what we'll be doing, Kurt? Isn't that why you asked me to stay the night?"

Kurt covered his face with his hand, his cheeks so hot that he could feel his palm burning. "I-I don't know, Blaine. I… I've never… Blaine, I-I'm a virgin. You would be my first. When you kissed me, I was caught up in the moment. I'd never… been kissed like that."

"Or at all." Blaine muttered, his face falling and his eyes washing away all of their humor. Putting his hands on Kurt's shoulders, he said seriously, "Kurt, look at me. It's clear that you're not ready to have sex. This is your first relationship… it just started forty minutes ago. I want you to be comfortable the first time that we have sex. And don't look at me with those sad eyes. I don't need to have sex with you, Kurt. I would like to… but, more than anything else, I want you to feel safe and secure with me. If I'm being honest with you, it's been about seven years since I've had sex. I was in a relationship for a month with this guy." Blaine's lips pressed into a thin line, "To put it simply, he started to resent me for things that I couldn't control. He ended it… It's not like I wasn't expecting it. I could see the hurt in his eyes. Within two weeks, he'd found someone else. And I took the blame for the distance between us. Kurt, it's not easy to be in a relationship with me."

An unpleasantly sour emotion pinched Kurt's stomach, a feeling he recognized as nothing other than jealousy. Shuffling closer to Blaine, Kurt screwed up his face, "Did you love him, Blaine?"

"My ex-boyfriend?" Blaine seemed surprised by the question. "No… not at all. The only place we even somewhat got along was in the bedroom. He had a superiority complex. He was the youngest of five siblings. When he got a taste of freedom in adulthood, he started to entertain. He would host these extravagant, expensive parties. Me… I'm a private person to a fault. I could do without any sort of company. I would leave while he was busy with the guests, and when I returned, we would get into fights because he claimed that he looked less important than his guests, without a boyfriend on his arm."

Wincing at the way Blaine's last relationship had gone down, Kurt let himself be dragged off of the elevator, too caught up in the conversation to notice that they'd been at his floor for a full minute. "So… how many… have there been? Do you mind me asking that?" Realizing how rude that question probably sounded the moment after it left his mouth, Kurt flinched at his own stupidity, digging around in his pocket for his key.

"No, of course not." Blaine said easily. "Let me think… Well, I've been in two relationships. My other one lasted for three months, and ended for the same reason. But… there were three other men, and a girl—"

"A girl?"

Blaine waved off his concerns, "Nothing happened between us. She was around before you were even born. I was twelve… I'm not even certain if I knew what a relationship was at that point. I was in an awkward time in my life. She came about because my dad had a coworker who had a daughter my age. We ate dinner with our parents. She tried to kiss my cheek at the end of the night. I think I offended her because I made a gross face and whined that she had _girl germs._ I am completely gay."

Kurt couldn't help but snicker at that, finally jiggling his door open. With the unbreakable conversation between them, and the reassurance that nothing had to happen if Kurt didn't want it to, he walked into his apartment with much more confidence than he had in the lobby. As he slipped out of his shoes, Blaine held him upright and asked, "You never went through the phase where you questioned everything about yourself, including your sexuality?"

"Um…" Kurt tapped his chin, shuffling away from Blaine once he was tilted upright and had stepped out of his shoes. "Not really. During high school, I tried to downplay my sexuality. The bullying came from both girls and boys. But I think everyone knew, since I was much younger, that I was gay. My dad had some trouble understanding. He used to buy me action figures, even though I always said that I wanted a doll because I would have loved to cut her clothes up and make her new outfits. So, instead, I made do with my action figures. My dad would sometimes watch me with this perplexed look, one of his eyebrows lowered, and his lip curled, as I married and divorced my action figures a hundred different times. My mom seemed to accept it much easier. I think she knew when she took me shopping one day, and I gave her advice on which high heels to buy." Sighing, Kurt wrapped his arms around himself, "I really miss my mom. I love Carole… she's good to my dad. But she doesn't understand like my mom did."

Blaine, who had also kicked his shoes off, strode closer to Kurt, who instantly felt a weight lift from his shoulders when Blaine's arms slid around him, supporting him. "But your dad came around? He accepted you?"

"Oh, yes." Kurt nodded emphatically, "It was never a matter of my dad having to come to terms with my sexuality. He simply… didn't understand. My dad is a rugged man. He played on his high school football team, and now runs a car shop in our garage. He's a man's man. We've never seen eye-to-eye on what we should watch on TV, or what events we should go to on weekends that we can splurge, but my dad and I love each other. I wouldn't want a different dad. He's been my rock. He was always there for me. Moving away from him was the hardest thing about coming to New York. What about your parents, Blaine? You don't talk about them."

"And there's a reason for that." Blaine grumbled, half bitingly. He turned his head to the side. "When I lived at home, my mom was never around. She was home, but… she wasn't there for me. She quit her job when…" His voice trailed off, as his eyebrows furrowed. He pushed away his last thought. "She's been unhappy for as long as I can remember. My dad was always a problem for me. We're both hardheaded and temperamental. We used to shout at each other… a lot. He never agreed with my sexuality, but that was the least of his concerns with me. He always had an earful for me about how I was never the son that he wanted. As soon as I was old enough, I left. I haven't spoken to them in… seventeen years."

"Seventeen…" Kurt breathed, unable to wrap his head around the idea of not speaking to his dad for more than a week. He looked back up at Blaine, whose face was wiped of any emotion. "Is it this secret of yours that has caused complications between you and your dad?"

"More or less."

"So…" Kurt wrinkled his brows, "this secret… you've had it for at least seventeen years—"

"Since I was two." Blaine corrected.

"Two…" Kurt murmured, becoming even more puzzled as Blaine fed him bits of this thing that he was hiding. "And… you save people with it. But not by choice?"

Blaine shrugged, "It's a choice. But it feels like an obligation, with what I have to give. Any more questions?" Skeptically, Kurt pushed away from Blaine and puckered his bottom lip into a pout. Before he could say anything, Blaine chuckled, "Don't strain yourself."

Kurt narrowed his eyes, "You're not a member of a secret government agency, are you? Have you been sent here to spy on me? You're not a robot, are you?" Patting his hands over Blaine's chest and arms, Kurt frowned as Blaine plucked his hands off, his body shaking with low laughter.

"What an imaginative mind you have. Are you sure you're not meant for the creative field of writing? You could be the next great, futuristic novelist." The sneer on Kurt's face made Blaine lose his humor, and he shook his head. "No, I'm not a robot. And I don't work for the government. I'm just a crime journalist. I sneeze once a day just like the next guy."

"And what will happen if I find out what this secret is? Will I… spontaneously combust? Will I have to move to another continent and make a new identity for myself?"

Once again, Blaine shook his head, "No. I would defy the laws of physics and save you, anyway that I could. And… if you left the country, I would just follow you. We could make new lives together. I don't know what would happen if you found out. It's never happened before. I've never let people get close enough to find out. But, I assure you, Kurt, I don't make mistakes when it comes to my secret. You're not going to find out. Does that intimidate you?"

Kurt slowly smiled, "You don't intimidate me, Blaine." All at once, Blaine's dark form clutched him to his chest, his mouth descending onto Kurt's. Kurt laughed at the affection, but pushed Blaine away. "No… no. I'm not going to kiss you and get in bed with you until I clean myself up. You have to stop being so aggressive when you grab me! You can kiss me gently, Blaine. Should we practice when I get out of the bathroom?"

As Kurt swayed away from him, he knew that Blaine's eyes were trained on his round bottom, which his long sweater clung to. To his surprise, Blaine didn't protest as Kurt shut himself in the bathroom. When he was out of Blaine's view, Kurt let a wide smile stretch across his swollen mouth. He wasn't sure what it was between them, but the two of them seemed to mold perfectly together, their quick wits and bluntness making conversation easy, and their passionate spirits drawing them together physically like the moon and its gravitation toward the ocean.

He washed his face quicker than he normally would allow himself, not letting his creams settle on his skin before he was on to the next task. After he vigorously brushed his teeth, he slipped out of his clothes and left them in a pile in the corner. He dressed himself in a pair of blue shorts, which hung just below the curve of his bottom, and another white tank top that had shrunk in the drier and didn't quite cover his midriff. Cracking open the door, Kurt peered into his empty living room, and he assumed that Blaine had already gotten into bed. He stuck one foot out the door, and then screeched as something crashed into him from the side, swinging him off of his feet. "Blaine!" He cried, trying to keep his voice down so he didn't wake his neighbors. "I thought we were going to work on being slow when you try to hold me and kiss me."

"I don't agree to deals I can't keep." Blaine threw Kurt onto the bed, and Kurt widened his eyes at Blaine, who had taken off his shirt. His chest and arms were more muscular than Kurt had originally thought them, after feeling them through his clothes. There wasn't an inch of extra skin on him, all of it taut over thick biceps and abs. Kurt squeezed his eyes shut when Blaine toppled on top of him, rolling across the bed with him as they fought for power. Blaine's skin was so hot, searing him through his thin tank top, which Blaine pushed his hand up, his fingers tweaking Kurt's pointed nipple. It was all a blur, his vision not keeping up with his hearing or his touch. Everything was Blaine's mouth, and Kurt forgot about his secret.

* * *

Later that night, Kurt rested on Blaine's chest, their bodies slick with sweat, and Kurt's back rising and dropping as he breathed softly. He was sound asleep, his mouth slightly damp against Blaine's nipple, hair fanned over his neck. Kurt had shed his tank top sometime during their frantic kissing, and it had landed on the other side of the room, and his shorts were slipping down one pale butt cheek, but the blankets smothered him. Blaine had stuck his hand beneath the covers, his fingers tracing patterns into Kurt's white skin, when a buzzing noise made Kurt's eyes blink open.

He stretched his floppy limbs, coming to as Blaine shifted beneath him, rolling slightly to the side so he could open his phone. Kurt, yawning, squinted at the bright screen that pierced through the wall of black that surrounded him. "Blaine, what is it?"

Blaine didn't respond for several seconds, and then he scooted away from Kurt, depositing his wriggling body onto the mattress. "I have to go, baby. Something… came up. I have to—"

Kurt rubbed his eyes, lazily accepting Blaine's swift kiss, "Your secret?"

"Yeah. My secret." Blaine squeezed his hand, and lowered it to the pillow, which Kurt hugged to himself. As he dragged the blankets higher on Kurt's back, he pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. "Go back to sleep."

"Will you be back?"

"I don't know. Go to sleep." Blaine kissed him once more, and when Kurt gathered the energy to peel open one eye, his boyfriend was already gone, not a trace of him left behind.

Slowly pushing himself up, Kurt unwound himself from the thick, tangled blankets. He hissed as the cold air settled onto his sensitive skin, which had been sucked, and nibbled, and burned by Blaine's cracked lips and scratchy cheeks. Blaine had been merciless with his kisses, pressing Kurt into the mattress, and not letting up until Kurt was squeaking, his breaths short and sharp. Rolling onto his side, Kurt checked the time on the clock, and saw that it was nearly seven, a few hours before he normally arose on a weekend.

Because he knew he couldn't make himself fall back asleep, he stumbled from the bed and adjusted his shorts. His breath filtered through his teeth, his lips slightly parted as he staggered from his bedroom. He flipped on the lamp, and then walked into his kitchen, where he prepared a cup of coffee for himself. As the machine churned the coffee grounds and water together, Kurt bent over the counter and rested his head in his hands. "What am I doing?" He whispered, an unsure smile wavering at his lips. He shook his head at his own insecurities. "I don't know this man."

When his coffee machine beeped, Kurt poured the drink into a mug, and stirred a few teaspoons of milk in. He carried his drink into the living room, where he sank into the couch and pulled a throw blanket over his lap. Reaching for his TV remote, Kurt distracted himself from his whirling thoughts by flicking through the channels. He was partially relieved that Blaine had departed so abruptly, so that they wouldn't have to face this in the morning. But then he reminded himself that Blaine was his boyfriend now. Despite that, everything had happened so quickly last night that Kurt didn't mind having a few hours to himself, to recalculate his future plans, now that Blaine was a part of them.

From the brief snaps he got of the shows, he found nothing of interest, and thought about shutting off the TV and trying to force himself back to sleep, or to take a soothing bubble bath, when his eyes widened on an image that appeared in the corner of the screen, next to a reporter. He paused his thumb on the button, staring at the news, which he had never bothered to watch. He gaped at the screen, which showed a crowd of people that had gathered in front of a hotel. He briefly listened in to the woman with the microphone, "Early this morning, we had a close call at a hotel in New York City. An armed man became a threat in the lobby. The unnamed man in the mask was once again a hero after he restrained the criminal and handed him over to the police."

The camera flashed away from the woman, and a shaky clip, taken from a phone, popped up. It was taken from within the crowd, which was buzzing and shuffling around each other for a view of the hotel. The phone lifted above the heads in front of it, showing a video of a dark man, camouflaged in a black suit, dragging a struggling man behind him. The crowd started mumbling words that blended together, making a sound like that of a swarm of bees. The man promptly ignored them, and shoved the criminal toward a police officer. As the officer cuffed him, the man turned away, waving off the microphones that were shoved at him. He didn't speak to anyone, and walked into the darkness, avoiding the streetlights.

Suddenly, the video ended, and the camera returned to what was happening live. An interviewer was standing with one of the pedestrians who had been watching the action take place. The interviewer, a blond woman in a smart outfit, cleared her throat, "And what do you take of this masked hero?"

The other girl seemed out of breath, as if she had been one of the people shouting at the man as he exited the building, "Well… he is just that, a hero. Some people are calling him a super man."

"A super man?" The interviewer confirmed, her brows shooting up. She turned back to the camera. "The police have no lead on this masked man's name. He refuses to answer any questions. We don't know when he'll make his next appearance."

Kurt rewound the channel until it reached the video of the man, and he paused it, finding the dark haired man with his back turned. "The man in the mask…" he whispered, feeling a jolt inside of him, as if some part of him recognized this man. "That isn't possible. New York is getting to my head." All at once, his doorknob shook as someone tried to get inside. Whipping around, Kurt held up the remote, as if he was going to throw it, when his boyfriend's dark figure slipped through the door. He instantly relaxed, his eyes becoming concerned as he noticed how Blaine was slumping his shoulders, his heavy head lowered as he scratched the top of it. "Blaine, what's wrong?"

Blaine, surprised, looked up at him, "Kurt… what are you doing out of bed? Are you okay?"

Kurt nodded, holding up his arms. "Yes… I just couldn't sleep. Come here. All of the crime in New York makes me want to hold onto you tighter. Where did you go? You weren't gone for long."

Blaine crossed the room and lowered beside of Kurt, who snuggled into his chest, sighing as his strong arms trapped him. "I just… had to take care of something." As Blaine ran his fingers through Kurt's hair, his voice trailed off. Tilting his chin up, Kurt peered at him upside down. Even though he could only see part of his mouth, he noted that the corner of it was turned down.

Blaine was staring at the TV, so Kurt murmured, "Have you heard about this? This man saved all of the people in that hotel. Isn't that admirable, Blaine? He's a hero."

"He's something like that." Blaine said darkly, and flicked the TV off. Before Kurt could question what had him in a cranky mood, he slunk away from him and set Kurt against the pillows on the couch. "Can I take a shower over here, babe?"

"Uh huh." Kurt accepted Blaine's soft kiss, "Why don't you have some breakfast, too? I'm going to give Unique a call, and start some pancakes." Blaine hummed an agreement, and then left Kurt plopped on the couch, watching him go. Kurt would never understand Blaine's rapid mood swings.

Puffing out a small breath, Kurt searched for his phone, which had fallen from his pocket the night before when Blaine had snatched him up. He raised his brows at the five missed calls he had from Unique, and the one that he had from his dad. Calling Unique back—because he was sure that if he made Unique wait another minute, he might implode—Kurt held the phone up to his ear and wandered into the kitchen. Two rings later, Unique's voice blared like a siren, "Kurt, I was starting to get worried! What happened last night?"

"I'm sorry, Unique." Kurt opened his fridge and pulled out a jug of milk. "I… I… We—" He shook his head at how ineloquent he was being, for someone who was paid to use his words. "I just… forgot myself last night. It was all happening very quickly."

Unique hesitated before responding, "What do you mean? What was happening quickly? Are you okay?"

"Yes! Yes, I'm fine. Of course." Kurt said very quickly, opening his pantry door and digging through it for his box of pancake batter. "I was very safe with Blaine. I didn't get a chance to call you, that's all." Putting down the box, Kurt moved away from the counter when he realized something. "Um… U-Unique, can you give me a second? I have to—" He lowered the phone as he dawdled back out of the kitchen, hearing Blaine's movements from inside the bathroom. He hesitantly approached the door and tapped one knuckle against it, "B-Blaine? You don't have any other clothes here, do you? Would you like me to wash the ones that you were wearing?"

"Would you?" To Kurt's alarm, the door sprang open again, and Blaine appeared on the other side, with only a towel wound around his waist. Kurt immediately flickered his eyes up to Blaine's face, heat consuming his face and spreading down his neck like a fire. Blaine held out a bunch of clothes, which Kurt tucked under his arm. "Thank you, Kurt."

Kurt found himself staring like an idiot, until Blaine arched one brow, making Kurt jolt out of his trance. "Oh… u-um… my extra toothbrushes are in this cabinet. If you're going to shave, I have razors and cream in here."

Blaine looked at him with a strange expression, "You shave, Kurt?"

"N-Not my face. I don't grow facial hair. But… I keep…" He gestured awkwardly to his groin and legs. "I keep everything else smooth." His face brightened when Blaine grinned at him, "D-Don't smile! I'm done speaking with you. I won't even tell you how to run the shower. I hope the water goes cold for you."

Kurt stamped away from him, grumbling to himself, when Blaine chuckled, "I won't mind the cold shower… not after you admitted that." Spinning around, Kurt opened his mouth and started to unleash a mouthful to Blaine, but the door was already shut.

Groaning, Kurt returned to the kitchen, and brought the phone back up to his ear after he deposited the laundry into the washer, which was kept at the far corner of the room, "Are you still there, Unique?"

"What was that?" Unique instantly asked. "Were you talking to Blaine? He spent the night at your apartment, didn't he? That's why you didn't call. Did you have sex with him?"

"No." Kurt said lowly, his spine crawling with the awareness that Blaine could overhear him. "We kissed. He didn't even… touch me. I went to sleep. He's in the shower now. I'm making our breakfast."

"You didn't—?" Unique scoffed. "Kurt, you had a man in your bed and you didn't even let him put his hand down your pants? Did you talk about it with him… you know, set the boundaries before you got into bed? Do you think you'll get there one day with him? Or was this the only time?"

"I-I don't know." Kurt whipped the pancake batter so quickly that a chunk of it flew out and landed on his thumb. "I don't know what he wants. H-He asked me to be his boyfriend last night. We're together now, but… I don't know where we're at… physically. It shouldn't be this hard, I know. I'm an adult. These things come easily for you… but… oh, I don't know. I just… don't have the experience that he does. Unique, he's twelve years older than me. He's had sex before. What if I just look like… a baby penguin to him?"

"Okay, calm down." Unique said, laughing lightly. "Take deep breaths. When you look in the mirror, tell yourself that you're the cutest baby penguin anyone has ever seen. Kurt, honey, you can't come to me for advice. _Blaine_ is your boyfriend. You two are going to have sex differently than how my boyfriend and I do. And remind yourself that you just started your relationship yesterday. Kurt, you have time to figure this out. If Blaine is a good guy, he'll want to sit down and talk to you about your concerns. Don't worry so much. Usually, these things come naturally. Just go with what feels right. But… damn… thirty four. I didn't put him a day over twenty five. He looks great for his age."

Kurt glared at his phone, wishing that Unique could see him, "Unique, he's thirty four, not fifty four."

"He's twelve years older than you." Unique pointed out. "Thirty four… fifty four… He probably got his first erection before you were even born. I wish you well, when you introduce him to your dad. I've met Burt. We both know he's going to freak out when he figures out how old Blaine is… and how _quickly_ you got together with him."

"You're not helping." Kurt growled. "My dad called this morning. I'm going to have to talk to him after I get off the phone with you. He probably sensed the disturbance that is Blaine and wants to check up on me."

Unique laughed aloud at that, "If your dad can't make it up to New York to meet him, I wouldn't put it over Burt to hire an assassin and send him after Blaine. Listen, hon, I've got to get going. My babe's parents are driving in for the weekend. When Burt brings that gun for Blaine, I'll ask him to shoot me, too."

Smiling, Kurt patted the pancake batter into a flat circle on the sizzling skillet, "I love you, Unique."

"I know you do." Unique blew a kiss into the phone. "I got you your man, after all. It couldn't be anything but the outfit that _I_ picked out that won him over. Or he could just have a thing for baby penguins. If he does, I would have him checked out." Both of them snickered, and then Unique said gently, "I love you, baby penguin. I'll see you on Monday?"

"I'll be there." Kurt clicked the call off and set the phone aside, using both of his hands to slide the wobbly pancake onto a plate. Turning away from the stove, Kurt called, "Blaine! Are you hungry?"

"I'm starved." Blaine brushed through the bathroom door, which released flumes of steam. He was clad in a pair of loose boxers. Going over to Kurt, he kissed his waiting mouth and muttered, "Whose boxers are these? You don't wear boxers."

"Oh… those are my stepbrother's. I keep forgetting to get those back to him when we see each other. When I was packing, they must have gotten sorted in by mistake." Kurt pointed behind him at the pantry, "The syrup is in there. There's strawberry and maple."

Blaine took the syrups from the pantry, "Let me finish up this pancake. I want you to have that one. Eat it before it gets cold—" The last letter didn't come out of Blaine's mouth before both of their heads turned at the sound of vibrating. Kurt frowned at the realization that Blaine's phone was going off. As Blaine left the room, Kurt turned back to the pancakes, flipping this one with less precision than the last and tearing a large portion off of it. He heard Blaine shuffling around behind him, yanking his clothes from the washer that Kurt had been waiting to fill with a full load before starting.

Kurt made an annoyed sound, because he'd been hoping to get Blaine to himself for a few hours, so that they could talk about things that they hadn't gotten the chance to work out before they became a couple. "Blaine—"

Shrugging into his shirt, Blaine returned to Kurt's side, "I—" He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'll be back in a few minutes."

* * *

Blaine was gone for more than four hours. Lounging on the couch with his laptop sitting on top of him, Kurt tapped out the conclusion to his most recent article, which discussed the appropriate attire for a job interview. His fingers typed out the second to last sentence, when his door rattled. He raised a brow at it, knowing just who was standing behind it. "Kurt, please let me in." Letting out an exasperated sigh, Kurt pushed his laptop aside and picked himself up off of the couch. He padded over to the door, unlocking it and then crossing his arms.

Blaine slowly opened the door, and Kurt shook his head at his bedraggled figure, his face smeared in soot and a thin scratch sprawling over his neck, like an intricate vein that had slithered to the surface of his skin. Blaine looked hopeless, his arms slightly outstretched, "Kurt… I'm so sorry. I didn't know I would be gone for four hours—"

"Five." Kurt said sharply, his voice breaking. "Blaine, it's been longer than four hours. You told me you would be back in a few minutes." He pushed Blaine off when he tried to slide his arms around him. "What makes you think you have the right to hold me, after making me worry sick for nearly five hours? And then you come here… looking like you've been through a fire. You didn't pick up my calls. I thought about coming after you, but you didn't even tell me where you were. I had _no way_ of finding you. How would you feel, were you in my position?"

Blaine took a large step back, his brows lowering, "Kurt, we just talked about this last night! Are you already fighting with me about what I have going on? I warned you that I wasn't easy to date. If you don't want a relationship with me, then you—"

Kurt's palm cracked Blaine across the cheek. As soon as he pulled his hand back, tears swelled over the rims of his eyelids. "Are you listening to me? This isn't about your stupid secret! This is about me wanting to know that my boyfriend is safe! You could have answered one of my calls and told me that you were going to take longer than you thought. It's frustrating, but I'll deal with it, because I know that whatever this secret is… it's important to you! But I didn't know where you were, or why you were taking so long. I called my dad while you were out. I had to brag about you to him… make everything seem like it was okay. I wasn't even sure if you were going to come back. How dare you accuse me of being irrational about this?" Shaking his head, Kurt placed a trembling hand on Blaine's chest, "I think that you should go, Blaine."

Kurt couldn't see the expression on Blaine's face, but the raw emotion in his voice surprised him, "We're not going to talk about this?"

"I wanted to talk to you, Blaine. I did… earlier. But you left. Now, I want you to leave—"

"I'm not going to leave you in this condition." Blaine said firmly, his hands coming to Kurt's shoulders. No matter how much he wanted to reject Blaine, Kurt still felt himself relax under his strong grip. He let out a noisy sob. "Kurt, we have to do something about this. I'm not going to leave my boyfriend when he's crying. This is my problem, and I need to fix it—"

"I don't want you to." Kurt's voice raised several octaves, a bubble of saliva popping on his salty lips, which his tears had seeped into the cracks of. "I want you to go away—"

"But that's not going to help you—"

"Blaine, just go away!" Kurt wrenched free of Blaine's grip and darted past him, wanting to be by myself, to not hear what Blaine had to say. He couldn't have a relationship with a man who could be ripped away from him at any moment, but he was already too far-gone with Blaine to leave him. He just needed some time to himself.

Running past a woman who slammed herself into the wall to avoid colliding with him, Kurt wiped frantically at his leaking eyes. He couldn't seem to control himself, let alone Blaine, and how careful his boyfriend was with himself. He thumped down the stairs, too hysterical to stop and wait for the elevator. He slammed through the door that opened up into the lobby, ignoring the strange looks that people gave him. Without a second thought, Kurt hurried through the sliding doors and onto the sidewalk, not sure of where he was going, or if Blaine was still following him. Suddenly, as Kurt brought himself to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk, his toe snagged on a crack, and he tumbled forward. He had been going too fast to come to such an abrupt halt.

The crash to the ground didn't hurt him, but the sound that pierced through his pounding ears—the squeal of metal contorting around itself—tied sickening knots in his stomach. Crying uncontrollably, Kurt hid his face as a large semi came barreling toward him, driving too fast and unable to swerve. But his eyes flew open as something near him grunted painfully, his face seeking out Blaine's, which was twisted up in a look of agony. Suspended in the air by Blaine's arms, Kurt stared with bulging eyes at Blaine, who had his back turned toward the semi. The monstrous vehicle had plowed into his back, the driver inside of it slamming on the brake as the front of the semi folded around Blaine.

Finally, the semi settled onto the pavement, the engine exhaling billows of smoke, and the metal creaking as it released its suction on Blaine's body. Blowing out heavily, Blaine suddenly fell forward, his arms hooking around Kurt to keep him from hitting the ground. People around them started to scurry over, all of them watching the scene as if something was going to jump out at them and bite them. One of the pedestrians scampered over to Blaine and touched his back, "Are you alright?"

Blaine merely shrugged him off, grunting lowly as he stood. He cradled Kurt's small body in his arms, limping away from the growing crowd and returning to the lobby of the hotel, which had become deathly silent. Blaine brought Kurt over to one of the elevators, where Kurt started to make a sound, but quieted himself when he saw the hurt in Blaine's eyes. When they arrived at Kurt's apartment, Blaine opened the door, stumbling on his way to the couch. He laid Kurt down carefully, and then let himself collapse, landing hard on his knees. Kurt sat up so swiftly that his head throbbed. "Blaine!"

Kurt wasn't sure where he could touch Blaine, so he held his hands just above him, as Blaine breathed through his gritted teeth. "I'm okay… Just give me a few seconds." He snapped his eyes shut, focusing all of his attention on something. Right before Kurt's eyes, Blaine seemed to gain strength, the red mark of Kurt's hand fading away, and the shaking in his back receding. He opened his eyes again, and looked up at Kurt, who was opening and closing his mouth. Kurt felt a pang of alarm when Blaine made a weepy noise, reaching up for Kurt and taking him in his arms. "Kurt, I've never been more scared than I was just then. I could have lost you, sweetheart. Don't ever endanger yourself again."

Kurt's eyes filled with tears, "What happened? Why aren't you injured? The semi… It wrapped around you. It should have smashed us both."

Blaine scratched his hand through his untamed curls, holding his tongue while he thought something over. "I don't want to erase your memory. It isn't fair to you." He muttered, making Kurt's eyes widen to the size of saucers. Blaine glanced up at Kurt, his expression unidentifiable, "Would it scare you if I told you that I could shatter your cheekbone just by brushing my finger against it?"

Kurt's mouth trembled as the words slipped out of it, "I know that you wouldn't hurt me."

"Whether I would or not, I still have the ability to. Doesn't that… perturb you? I could have put my hands on that semi and crushed it into a small ball of metal." Blaine pushed himself onto his knees and laid both of his hands on either side of Kurt's hips. Kurt unconsciously shrank away from him, something that Blaine took immediate notice of. "It does frighten you—"

"I just don't understand. I told you, I'm not intimidated by you. Why do you… have this…?" Kurt didn't know what to call it. "Why do you have superhuman strength? O-Or the ability to erase my memory?"

Blaine ran his thumb along the edge of his jaw, his brows ruffled as he retreated inside of his mind. Kurt was having trouble accepting the fact that his boyfriend's body had just stopped a speeding semi. Were this reality, the semi would have pummeled both of them, its tires streaking their organs across the pavement. As of right now, the police would be squinting at the pools of red, trying to identify which parts were Kurt's, and which were Blaine's. Kurt blinked the thought away. "I've never done anything superhuman without my mask on. It all happened too quickly, even by my standards." Kurt wasn't sure if Blaine was speaking to him, so he kept his mouth shut. Blaine raised his eyes to Kurt's face, "It's not just the strength and the ability to wipe minds. I can move swiftly, and can fly. I can also see through things."

When Blaine's eyes briefly flicked down to Kurt's body, Kurt insecurely wrapped his arms around his stomach, his legs crossing. "I've never done it to you. I have too much respect… unless you told me to."

"This isn't natural…" Kurt breathed, his shoulders slumping. "I don't… I can't… There aren't others like you, are there?"

"There are a few." Blaine admitted. "Not many. I've only come across one of them. The process to become like this was natural. Like I said, I became this way when I was two. I'm not an extraterrestrial."

"What are you, Blaine?"

"I've never given myself a name. I don't talk to people about what I am." Blaine slowly stood up and moved beside of Kurt, his arm sliding around his waist. "I became this way because of my dad. Like I said, there are others that have the same powers that I do. Not all of them use their powers to do good. My conversion happened on a night that my dad had me to himself. He had to take me to work because my mom was out of town. We were in an area with bad phone service when one of the tires on his car popped. My dad got out of the car and started to carry me to the nearest building. I don't remember what happened next, but he reminded me of it for years to come. This man… probably in his early fifties by now… approached my dad and threatened his life. My dad told me that I cried when the man pushed him against a wall. My dad… offered me to the man instead. So, the man grabbed my arm and dragged me over to this lake that had been contaminated with kryptonite. It must have been the same place where he was changed."

"Kryptonite…" Kurt hummed, "That's a lethal substance. It causes cancer, and even instant death. I was taught about it in school, but I've never seen it."

"It's not easy to find. Most scientists have started to isolate the substance, and take it to laboratories to be experimented on. Luckily, it's rare to stumble across." Blaine continued with his story, "Before I knew what was happening, the man had shoved me into the lake. For a few seconds, it all became blurry. And then… there was this pain, unlike anything I had ever felt before. It was as if all of my bones were cracking into tiny pieces. There was this sharp, stabbing pain in all of my limbs. But I remember not being able to scream, because when I opened my mouth, it filled with this awful, rusty water. That man was trying to kill me. But… somehow, I managed to claw my way to the surface. The man was gone… My dad hauled me the rest of the way out. I passed out. When I woke up, I was strapped to a hospital bed. There were needles stuck into my veins. They were drawing blood out of me. I was terrified. I tried to rip off of the hospital bed, and with my new strength, I broke most of the machinery around me… made it tip over and smash to the ground."

"There were these men that tried to calm down. I finally did… at least, when my dad appeared. They kept saying that they had to keep this in secrecy. They couldn't tell anyone about me. I don't remember anything about the hospital after that. The next time I woke up, I was in my own bed. I was more aware of everything… I could hear my parents whispering to each downstairs, and see every crack in my ceiling. I could also sense emotions. I know what you're feeling, anytime that you're around me. I also don't sleep that much… maybe for a few hours every couple of weeks. I do have my limits, but there aren't many of them. Feeling that semi crashing into my back… It hurt me, but it was the kind of pain that you would feel if someone punched your arm."

"So… this kryptonite," Kurt murmured. "It mutates in some people, and gives them these powers? But it kills other people?"

Blaine shrugged, "Yes, I think that's it. I don't know what causes the mutations. I know that, for me, it's one of my only weaknesses. Long exposure to it can be detrimental for me. The kryptonite affected certain parts of me… but I'm still a human. And it's the human part of me that the kryptonite would eat away at were I to come into contact with it. To put it simply, my body would, overtime, kill itself. The doctors explained it in further detail, but I don't recall much of what they said."

Kurt lowered his head, "Your dad… He resented you for being this way? But he was the one who caused it."

"My dad was a successful businessman. My family was always in the media. But… when I changed, we had to stay away from the cameras and interviewers because I was still learning to control my powers. If I did something wrong in front of the media, everything would have become chaotic for us. And my dad didn't want the negative attention on the family. I would have been the plaything for any scientist. If I wasn't careful, I could be dangling from hooks and wires right now, letting people examine my body and figure out what happened the day that I was shoved into that lake of kryptonite. It's why I never let myself appear out of the ordinary in public. I save people… but I've never let anyone see how I do it."

Feeling Blaine wipe a stray tear from his cheek, Kurt shook his head, "How awful, Blaine. I had no idea that you—" he quickly jerked upright. "I won't tell anyone. Unless… you were going to erase my memory. If you're going to, could you not take away… much?"

Blaine rubbed Kurt's shoulder, "No… Kurt. I'm not going to take away your memory. You can have what I've told you. If I were going to wipe your memory, I would have done it by now. But, this doesn't…" he gave Kurt a strange look, his lips pressing into a thin line and his eyes narrowing. "You're not bothered by this. And you're not trying to turn me into the government. Why not?"

"I wouldn't wish a life of being experimented on for anyone, not even my greatest enemy." Kurt said simply. "But especially not you. I care about you, Blaine… very much. And I wouldn't want you to be strapped onto some table as these unfeeling people prodded you and stuck things into you. I want you to be here… with me." Plagued by a moment of curiosity, Kurt tilted his head to the side, "Can you really see through things?"

"Yes." Blaine tugged a corner of his mouth up, his eyes swooping down to Kurt's legs. "Blue."

"Huh?" Kurt asked, as Blaine's hand softly caressed one of his cheeks. "What's blue?"

"Your underwear. They're blue." Blaine glanced up at Kurt's face, a cheeky smile stretched across his mouth, "And they fit you very snugly."

"Blaine!" Covering his groin with one of his hands, Kurt rolled his eyes at himself as he realized that Blaine could see through those, anyway. "I thought you wouldn't do that unless I gave you permission."

The smile grew larger, "I had to give you some kind of proof." Suddenly scooting closer to Kurt, Blaine pushed him down until his back hit the couch. Blaine swung his leg over Kurt's hips, sitting on top of him. "In a few seconds, I won't even need to see through your clothes."

Kurt's mouth twitched in annoyance, "I can't believe that you're even more arrogant with your powers."

"You wouldn't change a hair on my head."

This time, Kurt smirked, "No, but my dad would. He's coming up to visit. He wants to meet you." Kurt had never been more pleased with himself than as he watched the smile on Blaine's face shrink away.


	6. Everybody Wants to Rule the World

Author's note: Hi, there! Thank you for all of the amazing attention that all of you have given this story! I don't really have much to say about this chapter, except that you should not despair! I'll get another chapter up tomorrow night, but I was actually given a book of old fairytales for my birthday, so after I post this, I'm going to be reading like crazy. Once again, thank you guys, and I'll see you next time! Enjoy!

amande: Thanks for the compliment about Blaine's development :) It's been hard to make him into a developing character when I can't even get into his head, so I appreciate knowing that I'm doing it right. I've actually never seen a Superman movie, but he was the only hero that I really knew the powers of, which was why I chose him for this story. My favorite hero is actually Spiderman because I love his relationship with Mary Jane, but the story would have been a lot less interesting if Blaine just swung off of webs and kissed Kurt. And I really wanted to switch it up, because I hate how most superhero movies make the protagonist this perfect guy who can do no evil, and the antagonist the epitome of evil. It's so boring and cliche, so I took out the antagonist, and I made Blaine a deeper character, so that it's almost a man vs. himself story. I wanted the main problem of the story to be how Blaine's crime fighting is affecting Kurt. So, I don't think I'm going to do anything else with the character that dropped Blaine into the lake. Like Blaine said, that was where the man changed, and he merely did it because he was using his powers for evil. You can come up with any hypotheses you want, but I think that the man was driven to madness by his "powers" and wanted so badly to be human again that he was willing to torture others. In my mind, he was kind of like Karofsky. And, yes, Kurt and Blaine will have a lot more issues with their relationship. They both have a lot to learn, and Blaine has to face the important decision of whether he wants to fight crime or be with Kurt more :) And it won't be the simplest conclusion that you think it will be.

* * *

Two weeks later, Kurt and Unique lounged on the couch like slobs, both of them dressed almost identically in two pairs of sweats, and fuzzy socks that made sliding across the kitchen floor quite the feat. The only difference between them was Kurt's sweater, which was oversized and a deep, masculine color, as he'd stolen it from under Blaine's nose. The two of them were giggling as they read over the most recent, printed newspaper, in which another of Kurt's articles was featured on the cover, as well as one of Blaine's. "Thad always makes me laugh with his articles. He has such a good sense of humor."

Unique clicked his tongue, "Oh, I know. And Wes is so serious about everything that he writes. If we partnered them up to write an article together, it would be an emotional rollercoaster. I still have to congratulate Blaine on making the front page. Both of you are starting to have really similar writing styles. Maybe it's because you sit on his lap when you write, and you look at each other's laptops." Kurt laughed at that, starting to move the newspaper aside, when Unique mentioned, "Where is Blaine, anyway?"

Kurt tried not to look uncomfortable. Pasting a smile back onto his face, Kurt said uneasily, "Unique, I've told you before… Blaine is busy. He'll be here soon." Ever since Kurt had found out about Blaine's secret, things had been much easier between them. Blaine usually slept over at his apartment, and some nights Kurt would wake up to Blaine's buzzing phone, and others Blaine would get to stay with him. In the mornings, Kurt made breakfast for two, and sometimes only served himself. There were days when Kurt was more frustrated with his boyfriend's fluctuating schedule, but Kurt always bit his tongue. Who was he to complain when his boyfriend was only leaving to go help people? He couldn't be everyone's super man.

There had been multiple times when Kurt had almost slipped up and said something to Unique, who he wanted to tell more than anyone else. He knew that Unique would feel for him, as he waited up for his boyfriend, wanting him to return in one piece. Unique would pick up every time that Kurt called him, needing someone to talk him through the minutes or hours that Blaine was gone. But, whether he meant to be or not, Unique was a gossip, and even one word could be the ruin of Blaine.

Even though Unique had questioned Kurt in the beginning, he simply shrugged off the comment about Blaine's reason for being absent most of the time. "We still need to double date, you know."

"I know." Kurt sighed. "And we will. I'll talk to Blaine about it as soon as he gets here." Turning his head when someone tapped their knuckles on his door, Kurt stood up and padded over to the door, assuming that one of his neighbors wanted to borrow a kitchen utensil or something of the sort.

"Why don't you just talk to him now?" Unique suggested, still splayed out on the couch.

"This isn't Blaine." Kurt shook his head. "Blaine just barges in. I've had to start changing in the bathroom after he almost walked in on me when I was undressing." Returning his attention to the people on the other side of the door, Kurt opened it and instantly widened his eyes at the sight of his parents and stepbrother. "Dad?" Kurt choked, his lips turning up as he threw himself into his dad's chest. "What are you doing here? Your plane wasn't supposed to land until this evening. I don't have anything prepared."

His dad, Burt, was a fifty year old man, with a balding head that he kept tucked under a worn out baseball hat, and a pair of blue eyes that were creased at the corners, as if he always thought that something was funny. Carole, on the other hand, was about three years younger than him, with a brown bob that had gray streaks weaved through it. She was typically wearing two expressions, one a large, warm smile, and the other the disapproving frown that she only shot toward Finn, her gangly, dark haired son.

When he let go of his dad's burly body, Carole hugged him close, "Oh, Kurt, your apartment looks great. And you're absolutely glowing."

From the spot where his butt seemed to be permanently glued, Unique called, "Hi, Kurt's family."

Burt smiled fondly at Kurt's best friend, whom he had never quite gotten used to, but was glad for Kurt to have around. "Hi, Unique. How's the newspaper?" He lightly pinched Kurt's elbow. "Congratulations on getting the two articles on the cover, bud."

"My boss is getting on my nerves." Unique said bluntly.

At the startled look that Burt made, Kurt explained, "Unique wants a promotion, but our boss won't give it to him until he has at least five articles on the front page." Gesturing for his family to come inside, he took one of Carole's bags from her and brought it with him. "What a convenient time for you to fly out, huh, Dad? Just weeks before New York City gets busy around Christmastime. It couldn't have anything to do with my new boyfriend, could it?"

Burt's simmering glare was enough to clamp his mouth shut, "We needed to get out here and see you, anyway. This new boyfriend of yours was just one of the reasons we had to get this trip scheduled. What I want to know is why some thirty four year old guy, who isn't settled down yet, wants to date my twenty two year old son."

Carole, smelling the smoke that was fuming out of Burt's ears, calmed him down with a few pats on his shoulders. "Dear, why don't we get our suitcases into our room? Kurt, you'll have to show us around your apartment later. The place is impeccably put together."

As soon as they dawdled from the living room and shut themselves in the guest room, Kurt turned back to his older brother, who was awkwardly standing off to the side, twiddling his long thumbs. "Hi, Finn." Kurt tried to make conversation with the brother that he had never been close to. Finn seemed to be his opposite in everything he did. "I haven't seen you in a few months. How's my dad's car shop?"

After he graduated from a technical school with a degree in engineering, Finn had practically taken over the car shop. His dad had to slow down after his heart attack, and despite how much he resented working half of his former hours, and only being able to do so much work on each car before Carole admonished him, his dad obviously appreciated having Finn's help. The two of them spent their hours talking about football, for the most part, as well as Finn's current girlfriend. "It's going steady." Finn slid his hands into his pockets, "So… you got a boyfriend, huh?"

"For now." Kurt said laughingly, returning to his spot next to Unique, who was idly picking at his nail polish. "I might not have one after my dad gets his hands on him."

Finn grunted, and Unique raised his brows. "I love being at family reunions. They're more awkward than when I heard my boyfriend in the bathroom after he ate a burrito the day before." Kurt grimaced at his best friend, who shrugged nonchalantly. "If Blaine leaves the sink running for more than five minutes, just know that he isn't shaving."

"You must be Kurt's friend, Unique." Finn sat down on one of the chairs that were placed a few feet away from them.

Unique slapped his hands onto his thighs, "Oh, no, no. You are mistaken. I am this boy's whole world. I am his _galaxy._ I'm the reason that he has this boyfriend, who will inevitably use his toilet for evil one day." When Kurt swatted his arm, he made a broad gesture, "Kurt, the man's thirty four years old. Digestion is harder on them when they're older."

"That's so gross." Kurt whined, scooting away from his outspoken friend, when someone shoved his door aside. Kurt smiled as his boyfriend entered the room, a bag of food in one hand, and his nose buried in his own copy of the newspaper. For having just fought crime, Blaine seemed surprisingly groomed, not a hair out of place, and his shirt tucked into his pants. "Blaine, my family got here early. This is my brother, Finn. Finn, this is my boyfriend."

Blaine flicked his eyes up from the newspaper, and he quickly set what he was holding aside. He offered his best smile as he strode across the room, stopping just in front of Finn. Extending his hand, Blaine said, "It's nice to meet you. Kurt's told me about you."

Finn grasped Blaine's hand, giving the older man an appraising look. With the two of them side by side, the masculinity—between their colognes, their button up shirts, and their hair gel—stunk up the room. "Same." Finn muttered, always a man of few words. He slumped back in his chair as his eyes slowly swayed to the side, catching the forms of their parents as they returned to the room, beckoned by the sound of another voice.

Kurt rose to his feet and wandered to Blaine's side, not sure if he was trying to make the introductions smoother by being present, or readying himself to block Blaine from his dad's fists. He forced a smile onto his lips as his dad searched Blaine up and down, an unimpressed look on his face. "Dad, Carole, this is my boyfriend, Blaine. Blaine… my dad, Burt, and my stepmom, Carole."

Before Burt could make any disagreeable noises, Blaine leaned forward and offered them his hand, "It's a pleasure to meet both of you. Kurt's said nothing but good things."

Flattered, Carole squished her plump hands around Blaine's, "What a gentleman… and very handsome. Kurt, he is just as you said he'd be. Well, why don't we get out of this apartment for a little while and eat dinner? I am starved after that plane ride. Unique, will you be coming with us, dear?"

"I don't think so." Unique made a point of wiggling his brows at Kurt. "I'll let Kurt enjoy his family time. I will steal this bag of pretzels, though." After he dug the bag out of the pile of groceries that Blaine had just bought, he slunk past them and waved. "Mr. Hummel… Mrs. Hummel, always great to see you. Finn, you're just as tall as ever."

Backing out of the room, Unique hurried off, leaving Burt to only shake his head. "That boy is out of this world. Are we ready to go?"

"Let me take Pavarotti's food back to him." Blaine split away from the group and grabbed the bag of seed from the groceries. "Babe, they didn't have the kind with the dried cranberries. Will this be okay for now?"

"Yes, that's fine." Kurt watched his boyfriend, who had taken very quickly to Pavarotti and seemed to enjoy giving him his scoops of food, walk down the hallway, and then twisted back to his dad when he made a rumbling noise.

"You let him buy your groceries? Isn't that a little… intimate, for a couple that just started dating?" His dad kept his head down, as if embarrassed to have to ask about his son's private life.

Kurt shook his head, "It isn't like that, Dad. Blaine will eat over here sometimes. He'll pick up things that he likes, or things like bread and butter, if he notices that we don't have any left. It's just less expensive for both of us to have him eat over here, and to buy food for only one of our apartments."

Burt's eyes nearly bulged out of his head, "He has an _apartment?_ He's thirty four years old! When I was his age, I was settled down into a house with your mom—"

As Blaine shuffled back out of the hallway, Kurt quickly squeezed his dad's hand, even though he knew that Blaine could have overheard, anyway. "Dad, let's… let's talk at dinner, okay? I don't feel comfortable discussing Blaine's living situation without him present." Giving Blaine a bright smile when he approached, Kurt placed his hands on his chest and smoothed away a few wrinkles. From the disconcerted look on his face, Kurt could tell that Blaine had heard every word.

* * *

Blaine, having already mapped out the directions to a Greek restaurant, drove them a few miles across town. The drive, without traffic, would have taken about twenty minutes, but with people coming in waves for the holidays, the streets were packed, and the traffic added an extra fifteen minutes. The ride was spent in stiff silence, his dad stewing behind them, as Kurt sat up front with Blaine, hand on his shoulder and gently massaging. Kurt could tell that Blaine wasn't sure what to think of his dad, and, for once, neither was Kurt. He had never seen his dad this way before, and wasn't sure if he would have acted this way had Kurt started dating in high school, or if it was simply Blaine's age that threw him off.

When they got there, Carole made over what a charming building it was, and exclaimed to her husband, "Burt, you love Greek food! Blaine and Kurt went to the trouble of finding a restaurant like this. And isn't it so quaint?" Neither Kurt nor Blaine had been there before, but Kurt stopped to admire one of the only one-story buildings in New York City. The restaurant was lavishly decorated with springy flowers, and had wheelbarrows placed around it, each one filled with fresh greens and ripe apples. Blaine held the glass door open for him and his family members. The restaurant, which was one of the less expensive in New York City, but still required a reservation, had a man waiting at the entrance. He led them back to a round table, where Blaine pulled out Kurt's chair for him and helped him peel off his jacket.

The two of them sat beside of each other, their hands clasped under the table. The waiter offered them a bottle of red wine with a tart black cherry flavor. Except for Burt, each of them had their wine glasses filled, and then waiter laid down the menus, promising to return when they were all ready to order. As Blaine opened the menu that he and Kurt shared, he pointed out a few delicious dishes that he wanted Kurt to consider. Before Kurt could come to a final decision, his dad scoffed from across the table. "Is nothing in New York under ten dollars?"

Kurt looked up from the menu, "Dad, it isn't often that I go to restaurants like this. This was a special occasion. I usually just buy groceries, or order takeout."

Burt curled his lip in obvious disgruntlement, "I just don't see how any recently graduated person can afford to live out here. I talked to you about that before you moved."

Knowing that Blaine was looking at him, Kurt stared down at the table. He hated to have his salary brought up in the middle of a family meal, with his new boyfriend watching him. "I make enough money to be comfortable. Sometimes, I can even splurge. And I'm close to getting a raise. My boss said that if I get one more article on the front page, he'll increase my salary by ten percent."

Burt shook his head, "Kurt…" And there it was—the sigh of his name that meant he was going to get a lecture. "You know that I support you, kiddo. I always have. But this journalism thing… It's not really a career, Kurt. You can be a journalist right now, and support yourself. But what about when you have a family?"

Kurt felt his stomach roll. "When I have a family, I'll also have a husband. With our salaries combined, we'll have enough to care for ourselves and any children we have."

At the mention of a husband, Burt glanced over at Blaine. "And what about you? You're thirty four years old. What work experience do you have?"

Kurt's eyes became huge. " _Dad,_ you can't just ask someone that—"

"It's alright, Kurt. He's just concerned about your wellbeing." Blaine kept his face solemn as he spoke to Burt, "I work in Kurt's office as a crime journalist. But, if I had to, I have the capability of doing just about anything in criminal justice. I got my first degree in criminal law, with a specialization in journalism. After about a year, I went back to school and received a degree in forensic science. I took on two internships in the field, and while they helped to pay back the debt of getting two degrees, they made me see that I work much better on my own. I understand that my preferences won't be a concern if I'm trying to provide for a family, but if I could just stay as a journalist, I would rather do that."

"And why didn't you pick a job that's much more family-oriented? A job with set hours? A lawyer, for example. You would still be dealing with crime, but you would know when you got to go home every day. As a dad, I wouldn't want a husband that isn't secure for my son. Not to assume that you two are going to get married."

Blaine raised one of his brows, "With all respect, Mr. Hummel, I've never wanted a job where I sit in a building for a few hours and rattle off the rules of the law. I'd rather be at the crime scene, when the action is happening. That's the most rewarding thing about being a part of criminal justice. To see a mom whose child was trapped in a burning building… the relief in her eyes as he's carried out. There's nothing more important than that, not even putting the blame on the man who lit the fire."

Before the two of them could carry on, the waiter returned for their meal orders. Blaine and Kurt got the same dish, while everyone else put their different requests in. The waiter retreated again, and Burt tensed his jaw, "And will you tell me why you haven't settled down with a family yet? Why you don't have a husband?"

"Mr. Hummel, I haven't dated anyone in seven years." Blaine said without hesitation. "I travel too much to have any commitment in my life. I just recently moved to New York. And I have a busy schedule. Of course… I've thought about starting a family. I don't want to be adopting my first child when I'm forty. But I still have a lot to figure out before I think about proposing to someone."

Suddenly, Finn, who had been swirling his wine around, spoke up, "My brother?"

Kurt furrowed his brows at Finn, "What, Finn?"

Finn flicked his brown eyes between Kurt and Blaine, "You'd be proposing to my brother?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Kurt said gently, "Finn… Blaine and I just started dating. We're not going to break up, but… we'd need more than a few weeks to decide if we want to get married."

"And they both need to be with someone their own ages." Burt pointed out, his comment getting a scolding look from Carole. "It's nothing but the truth. Kurt's barely out of his teenage years. He doesn't need to be with a man who's ready to start a family—"

"Burt, stop that." Carole censured, "Let Kurt date who he wants. There's no harm in it. If he's comfortable and happy with a man in his thirties, isn't that better than him getting into a relationship with someone in his twenties and being completely miserable? Kurt has always been responsible, and wise beyond his years. He knows what he's doing."

Each of them leaned away from the table when the waiter came back, using the hot plates as his shirtsleeves. Kurt scowled at his meal when it was placed in front of him, knowing that his dad was staring at him from across the table. When the waiter left, the air remained charged with the tense energy that radiated off of him. Finn tangled himself into an awkward situation when he asked for the salt, a container that no one reached for, until Carole finally stretched her arm in front of her husband and dragged it over to her son. Finally, Kurt couldn't take it anymore, and he said exasperatedly, "Dad, you know that I respect your opinion. You were always the man I went to for advice when I was younger… remember? But, about this… about Blaine, I'm not going to listen to what you have to say. I'm twenty two years old. I don't need to ask you if a man can take me on a few dates. You taught me how to judge what makes a good man, and I think that Blaine can be that for me."

Sullenly, Burt shook his head at his plate. He pushed the noodles around, as he shrugged off the hand of his wife, who hoped to be the median that would bring some compromise to the stubborn man and his son. Kurt narrowed his eyes accusingly, wondering what had gotten into his dad, who was usually very disinterested in the people that Kurt spent time with, after meeting Unique and apprehending that he was harmless. As the family dug themselves deeper into a hole, Blaine's phone buzzed under the table. Kurt winced without meaning to, because this might have been the worst time for Blaine to have to be someone else's superman. Much to Burt's, and even Carole's, displeasure, Blaine checked his phone, which he had set to alert him whenever some piece of important news popped up. Instantly sliding away from the table, Blaine carelessly tossed his napkin onto his half empty plate, and bowed to kiss the corner of Kurt's mouth. Although he was quiet, his eyes became apologetic, and Kurt simply nodded, knowing that he couldn't express his disappointment with Blaine having to leave, when he could have been going to save someone's life.

Moving away from Kurt, Blaine said brusquely, "Mr. and Mrs. Hummel, I have something that I need to do. Please, forgive my absence." He stuffed his hand into his pocket and pulled out of his wallet, giving it to Kurt, "Sweetheart, I'll pay for the meals. I'll see you later, okay?" Without another word, Blaine whipped around and maneuvered by the waiter, who was zipping their way to inquire about their meals. As soon as he shouldered through the main doors, Burt's offended eyes swerved to the back of Kurt's head.

"If this isn't the most important business that he's had to—" Burt started, but Carole shook her head, her thumb rubbing his white knuckles. "Does he do that often, Kurt?"

Gazing emptily at his dad's perplexed face, Kurt figured that it was best if he didn't answer. When the waiter appeared at his side, he held up his wine glass. "Could I have this refilled, please? And… a box, for my boyfriend's meal?" As if he himself had dealt with a boyfriend who was absent more than he was there, and sympathized with Kurt, the waiter readily filled the glass even higher than he had the first time. Kurt downed the drink immediately, squeezing his eyes shut as the hint of spices rolled down his throat, leaving it raspy and sore.

* * *

"We'll have the story of how the little boy, who had been trapped by his seatbelt after the car flipped over, was pulled free by a mysterious man in a black mask. This is coming up at eleven." Kurt stared idly at his TV screen, a much smaller one than he had in his living room, but that he had to use so that he didn't wake his parents. He folded one of his shirts and placed it in the drawer, and when he turned back to the freshly cleaned basket of laundry, he found one of Blaine's shirts within it. He pulled it out and started on it, as his eyes returned to the TV, where a woman had started speaking about the rescue of the toddler.

Suddenly, a light breeze moved his hair, and Kurt blinked out of his trance. He checked the window to make sure that he had closed it for the night, only to have his eyes covered by a pair of large hands. Despite how uneasy things had been with his parents earlier, Kurt couldn't help but smile as Blaine slid his hands lower, cupping them over the points of his hips. "Blaine, my dad will freak out if he hears you in here."

Blaine moved around to his front, his smile wavering uncertainly, "We're both adults. Are we really going to sneak around like a couple of teenagers?" At the long face that Kurt gave him, Blaine heaved a sigh and sat down on the end of the bed. "I have the inclination that your dad doesn't like me. He doesn't even know me."

"He's just protective, Blaine." Kurt admitted, his voice soft. When Blaine slumped his shoulders, Kurt lowered beside of him, his body sinking towards Blaine because he pressed the bed lower. "My dad has always been strict with me. And I've never dated before… Give him time to adjust. You're my first boyfriend. He's going to be tough on you because he's never done this before."

Blaine frowned into Kurt's hair, "Why is he protective, Kurt?" When Kurt lifted his eyes, he saw Blaine looking at him like he never had before. "Is it because of what happened when you were bullied? You've never talked to me about that, Kurt."

Pushing away from Blaine, Kurt stroked his hand over the collar of his shirt, uncomfortably fiddling with his hands, as he did when he was in flustering situations. "Nobody likes to talk about how they were bullied, Blaine. I think that you should get back to your apartment. It'll be easier on my dad if you don't stay here over the weekend."

Blaine held him tighter, even as Kurt tried to squirm away, "Are you ever going to tell me?"

Pursing his lips into a white line, Kurt resolutely ignored the question, and kissed Blaine's mouth, "Goodnight, Blaine."

He lowered his shoulders, his dismal eyes draining of their emotion as he rubbed his lips over Kurt's, "Sleep wall, baby. Can I come back tomorrow morning?" Nodding, Kurt hugged his boyfriend, his arms winding snugly around his neck. Blaine rubbed his hand over Kurt's back, "I'll be back, okay?"

Kurt let go of his boyfriend, slinking back on his bed as Blaine walked over to his window. With one look back at Kurt, and a wink, Blaine swung the window upward. He threw his leg through it, and a few seconds later, he vanished into the blackened night, his silhouette outlined by the streetlights. Kurt tried to follow his flying form with his eyes, and then fell back onto his pillows. Burying his face into one of the bubbles of cotton, he shut himself out of the world. He briefly imagined himself in Unique's shoes, with a boyfriend who worked as a bartender. His set hours, from afternoon until evening, gave Unique a sense of security, of safety in his boyfriend's arms. He knew that his boyfriend wouldn't have to leave him, and risk his neck for people who didn't have the strength to save themselves.

Wiping at his moist eyes, Kurt wondered if things would be simpler were he with a man ten years younger than Blaine, and without the indefinite schedule that he had held on his shoulders for the past fifteen years, and would keep for another fifteen, or longer. Kurt had been bullied because he wasn't like the rest. It was no surprise that he ended up with a man who was even stranger than he was.

* * *

The following morning, Kurt roused to the sound of his family members scraping about the hallway. Feeling more refreshed than he was last night, he decided, through his bleary mind, that he was going to try to restart today, and get his dad and boyfriend on the same page. He slowly sat up, pushing the blankets down, and stretched his arms above his head. As he scooted off of the bed, he pondered when Blaine would return. He padded over to Pavarotti's cage and poured seed into his bowl, and then turned to his closet and sifted through it for one of his nicer outfits. If he couldn't keep his family together, he could at least keep himself neat.

Peeling off the shirt that he had taken from Blaine, he redressed himself in a pair of gray slacks, and a black, sleeveless shirt with ruffles down the middle, and a gray, cotton jacket. As he buttoned his jacket, he opened the door to his bedroom and almost ran straight into Carole, who was fluffing her bob with her fingertips. She drew back at the sight of him. "Oh, Kurt! Good morning, dear. I was just coming back to knock on your door."

Kurt nodded at his stepmom, "Did you and my dad sleep well? Finn isn't up, is he?"

"We slept just fine. And, no, Finn isn't up." Carole assured him, glimpsing over her shoulder before she squeezed his hands. She lowered her voice, tilting her head forehead, "Kurt… you wouldn't have a few minutes to talk to me, would you? Blaine is in the living room with your dad. I wanted… to ask you about him. Could we sit in your bedroom?"

Even though there was no reason for them to isolate themselves, Kurt waved her in, anyway. "Yes, of course. Is everything alright, Carole?"

"Everything's fine." She said again, as she shut the door behind them. Taking a deep breath, as if she had to prepare herself for what she was going to ask, she squared her shoulders and cocked her head at the door. "Kurt, sweetheart… is Blaine… well, honey, what I'm asking is… Kurt, is there something off about Blaine?"

"Off?"

Her mouth became firm, "Maybe I don't know what I'm saying, but, honey, there's something… I don't want to say that unsettling is what I would call it… but something that's… unusual… about Blaine. Although I'll support you, I do agree with your dad that it's rather… well, unheard of… that someone in his thirties would date someone just out of college. And… I suppose it's the way that he looks. His eyes are so perceptive. _He's_ perceptive. Just this morning, I was feeling a little dismayed by how Burt was acting. I didn't even hear him walk up behind me, but Blaine gave me quite a fright when he showed up out of nowhere. He was just staring at me, and he asked me if I was okay. I don't know what to think about him, Kurt."

Kurt had no feasible answer to give her, so he simply opened and closed his mouth, when Carole touched his arm, her eyes widening as she came up with more concerns. "Another thing that I wanted to bring up to you was the crime in this city! I think that you should stop walking to work, Kurt. When I turned on the TV, all I could hear were announcements about all of the robberies and shootings. There was a shooting on the other side of New York City, just an hour ago! The reporter talked about some man in a mask who had grabbed the gunman and restrained him. But why did he have to have a mask on? What if he was part of a cult? Kurt, you don't know who you're walking beside of in this city. Blaine was out and about when that shooting was going on. You need to look out more for your own wellbeing."

"I know, Carole." Kurt had heard this lecture a thousand times before, just before he'd moved to New York. He repeated what he used to say to his dad, "But the side of New York City that I live on couldn't be safer. Nothing happens over here. You know that I was hit more at McKinley than I ever have been here."

Carole made a face at him, "I didn't need to hear the statement about McKinley. I know what happened at your high school. I'm talking about now, Kurt, in New York. Just… be careful, okay? Your dad and I worry about you. Finn… we have him in our backyard. But you're a whole plane ride away. Call more often, alright? It isn't good for your dad's heart if he's so stressed out about you. Your dad had a heart murmur when he found out what was happening at McKinley. Any more scares wouldn't have…" she cleared her throat, and Kurt patted the back of her hand. "Well, Kurt, it wouldn't be good news."

"I understand, Carole." Kurt said solemnly, briefly flitting his eyes to the side as he remembered when the bullying had escalated to its peak, and Kurt, having had enough of it, squealed at the main provoker to stop, and had picked himself up from the floor, blood spilling from between his lips. So panicked that all he could do was scream, Kurt had made a run for it, only to smack right into a wall of them. Kurt recalled the exact octave of their cackles as the largest one—the one who seemed set on killing Kurt—hunted his wounded prey down, how loud they became as they bent and swung him off of his feet. He remembered being held with his face mere centimeters from those cold, unfeeling eyes, pupils expanded with his eagerness to inflict harm onto the much smaller boy.

Kurt blinked those memories away, letting them become black, and then returning to a few hours later, when he rested in his brother's strong arms, his entire body trembling as he wept with abandon. Although Kurt didn't want to, his oblivious principal had sat him down in the same room as his bully, who showed no regret at the pain that he had caused Kurt. Kurt remembered seeing his parents storm into the room, Carole's face was unusually furious, and his dad's almost white with complete hatred. Upon seeing his crying son, Burt had lunged at the bully, hands clasping around his neck. While they tried to pull him off, and Kurt cried harder into his brother's pounding chest, Burt's face had suddenly wiped clean of all emotion, his lips draining of color as he staggered backward, grabbing at his chest. Although his bully received a week of suspension, when he came back—even after seeing the distress that he had caused Kurt's entire family—it seemed as if he was out for blood, after being caught once and wanting to take his frustration out on Kurt. The bullying didn't stop.

Kurt returned his attention to the present when he heard a knock at the door, and Blaine entered without being told to. Standing, Carole clasped his hand once more, and then breezed out of the room. Blaine closed the door behind her, his face unreadable. Kurt raised his brows at him, "You were in a gun fight this morning?"

Blaine shook his head, "I'm too fast. I can hear the bullets coming. I dodge all of them." Crossing his arms over his chest, he said sternly, "Were you ever going to tell me that people _hit_ you in high school? Is that what you meant by bullying?"

Kurt's eyes became round at the harsh tone of Blaine's voice. " _What?_ You listened to that conversation? I figured you would eavesdrop on us when we were talking about you, but Carole got off the subject. Why were you still listening?"

"Why wouldn't you tell me that people harassed you in high school?"

"Are you angry that I kept that secret from you?" Kurt asked incredulously, rising from the bed and digging his oval nails into his palms. "I can't believe you! My bullying was none of your concern. I'm sure that I would have told you eventually, but we had just started dating, Blaine. I'm not going to blather about my life to a… a _stranger!_ " Blaine looked like he had been slapped by that word, and Kurt raised his voice. "That's what you are, Blaine! You're never here! A-And I understand that I'm supposed to be okay with that, because you're helping people, but when you are here… it's like our relationship is at a standstill! We don't talk about anything. You haven't taken me on another date. I feel like I don't know anything about you. Maybe Unique was right. I shouldn't have hurried into anything."

Blaine cocked his head to the side, "So, you want the relationship to end? You know, I thought you were different from my ex-boyfriends. I thought that you really could put up with me. But you didn't even make it to four weeks—"

Kurt threw his hands into the air, "And I thought that you weren't so insecure that you would listen to every conversation that I have! And that you would assume that I want our relationship to end. I care about you, Blaine—" Covering his mouth, Kurt shook his head as his eyes welled up, and then slowly narrowed again. He whirled back around to Blaine, "Wait… four weeks? Is that what you said? Blaine… we've been dating for three weeks."

Turning away with an annoyed look, Blaine shrugged his shoulders haphazardly, "It was a slip of my tongue."

Kurt disregarded that statement, "Blaine… what did you do?" Blaine's jaw twitched, so Kurt inhaled sharply, doing a quick inventory of everything that had happened during the last few weeks. All at once, Kurt's eyes overflowed with tears, and he flopped onto his bed. "I didn't hit my head, did I? When we first met, something else happened… You cleared my memory. Blaine, what did you take?" Blaine shook his head, so Kurt stood upright again. "Blaine… tell me. What was it that you didn't want me to remember?"

Blaine lowered his head, "You came into the office. We talked… and you noticed that I was hurt from an attack. You touched the wound… expressed concern for me. I wrapped my arms around you, and you told me to kiss you." Although Kurt's eyes enlarged, Blaine went on. Kurt wondered how much more there was. "I asked you on a date. The date, to put it simply, went terribly. I showed up late because of a robbery that was happening a few miles away. The conversation was okay, but we weren't connecting. I was keeping too much from you, and I think that you could sense that. I took you to a restaurant. We started fighting. I didn't want to accept how much I needed you. That was what the fight was about. I… had to leave. There was an emergency. I gave you my car and left. A few days after that, you went back to the office. I didn't. These men broke into Dalton because they wanted the unpublished writing, and you saw me in my mask. I flew with you… I took you out of the building. That was when I cleared your memory."

When Blaine stepped closer to him, Kurt recoiled, wrapping his arms around his middle. "Don't touch me. Don't even come near me." His voice shook with his high emotions, "I can't believe that you thought it would be okay to take our first kiss from me. And our first date. Blaine, I don't remember any of that now! I'll never have those memories again."

Blaine swallowed so thickly that even Kurt heard it, "Kurt, I'm sorry. I was only going to take the memory of when you first saw me in my mask. And then I realized that you might not be interested in me anymore, if you remembered our first date. While I was on that date with you, it occurred to me that I want you in my life. I couldn't stand the thought of losing you because of my own stupidity. I was awful to you on that date." He took one step forward, and Kurt inched back. "Kurt, please… look at me."

Kurt tightened his arms around himself, "You manipulated me to feel exactly the way that you wanted me to. You could have just apologized, Blaine, like any decent person. I would have forgiven you. But, for this… I don't think that I can. You took my first kiss from me, and used your powers against me, for your own good. You were selfish, Blaine, and because of that I'll never remember how good it must have felt to kiss you for the first time!" He finally looked at Blaine, whose face shone with the tears that trickled from his eyes. "Blaine, you thought it would be your stupidity in not realizing earlier how much I meant to you that would end this relationship. But it was really your naivety in not seeing how much that _you_ mean to _me_ that ended it."

To Kurt's surprise, Blaine lifted his hand to his face, hiding it from Kurt as he twisted it up. Tears poured from his squinted, golden eyes. Kurt, who had never seen a man cry in front of him before, jerked with alarm, but then he turned away, knowing that this was good for him. Blaine had never been the right partner for him. Finally, when Blaine gathered himself enough, he walked by Kurt and pushed through his bedroom door. Glancing over his shoulder, Kurt watched Blaine pace through his family members, who quickly made a path for him. In his anguish, Blaine seemed to have forgotten that he had the ability to fly out of the window. Kurt looked at his dad, who stared after Blaine, and then turned back to his son, clueless about what had just happened. Kurt only shook his head, sitting down on his bed, and then smothering his face with his hands as he burst into tears.


	7. I Need Some Sleep

Author's note: Hello again! This is my favorite chapter that I've written for this story, because Kurt and Blaine had some very entertaining and humorous moments. They're finally figuring each other out as a couple! This chapter does contain a scene of sexuality. It's near the middle, and isn't necessary, so you can skip it if you'd like. Kurt's history with bullying is finally revealed! Because of an amazing reviewer, I've also been rethinking my climax, and I've redone it to be much better and much more intense. I'm not sure how long this story is going to be. I'm thinking it will be around 25 or 30 chapters, but it could be less or more. Thank you for reading, and enjoy the chapter!

amande: I'm sorry for making you upset! Kurt's better again :) Blaine not only fixed his relationship, but he saved Kurt's life! World's best boyfriend, 10/10 :P I've actually decided to work a little more with the man at the lake. He's going to be a problem in the future. Because you made me think about him again, I decided to something especially malicious with his character and his craziness. That wasn't the last bout of problems that Kurt and Blaine will have. But, for now, enjoy this gracelessly awkward and amusing chapter.

* * *

Early, the next morning, his family's flight back to Ohio took off, giving Kurt the rest of the day to himself. Besides taking a bubble bath, and cooking a gourmet meal for himself—a meal that would take a few hours to finish, and occupy his bustling mind, Kurt lazed around on the couch, flicking through channels. He briefly stopped on the news, and watched a shaky video filmed from someone's phone, showing a man, who had been cleaning the glass of a skyscraper and had lost his footing on the platform, dangling from the edge. Suddenly, the glass behind him ruptured as the man in the mask burst out of it. He captured the struggling man around his waist, and hovered for a few seconds, before lowering him safely to the ground. Before the cameras could swarm him, the man was gone again, and the video shut off. "He isn't everyone's superman." Kurt whispered to no one, before he shut the TV off and went to his bedroom to rest, so he wouldn't look so depleted at work.

He arrived at his office twenty minutes before most of his coworkers did, giving him the quiet he needed as he traveled up an empty elevator and walked down the long hallway. Because he'd been expecting the area to be void of people, he jumped at the sight of a round, dark figure standing in front of his door. Realizing that it was Unique, Kurt let out an unflattering sound and ran into his arms. "Unique!" He cried, and Unique held him tight, because he'd been the only one he'd called about the breakup. "I didn't know how much I needed your hugs."

"It's okay, honey." Unique rocked him from side to side. "Listen… I left some ice cream in your freezer. There's a slice of cheesecake on your desk. And don't worry about your weight. I want you to eat all of it. You'll feel better after you do." Kurt was about to ask how Unique had gotten inside, but then he figured that Blaine must have already been in there. It was tempting to ask how he looked—if he didn't seem bothered by the breakup, or if he had a box of tissues sitting on his desk—but Kurt bit his tongue. He didn't know if Blaine had yet learned his lesson about eavesdropping. "Kurt, I want you to come find me if you need me."

Kurt nodded, "Of course I will. But… I think I'll be okay."

"You think so?" Unique confirmed, "But… Kurt, I wanted to let you know that I'll be going out tonight. You know, with Rodney. We're going to get dinner at the bar that Rodney works at. It's karaoke night, which means bad singing, and at least three rounds of free drinks. Rodney's going to bring a couple of friends. Sebastian will be there, too. But… mostly, I just want you there for myself. How about it, Kurt? We won't be out too late. It could be fun. Just what you need after a breakup."

Groaning at his friend, Kurt gave him a hopeless look, "Oh, I don't know, Unique. You won't be drinking much, will you? I won't know anyone else there, and I'll need to have you around."

Unique laughed, "I won't have more than three drinks, Kurt. I promise. I know that all of this," he wiggled his hips and gestured at himself, "isn't attractive when it's plastered. Besides, I want to go dancing at the end of the night, and this booty can't shake if it's falling on the ground." When Kurt let out a small giggle, Unique kissed both of his cheeks, "There you go! And, like I said, _Sebastian_ will be there. And he'll be better than old, stuffy Blaine. Sebastian's young and flirty."

Kurt's face lost its humor, "I don't know about that, Unique. I'm not interested in dating right now."

Unique embraced him again, "You'll meet a really good guy, Kurt. I love you, honey. I've got to go downstairs." Blowing him a kiss, Unique rushed off after Kurt whispered his love back to him. Smiling weakly after his bubbly friend, Kurt reluctantly turned to the door and pushed it open. Kurt had almost considered having his office moved, but now that everyone and their brother seemed to know about his relationship, he couldn't bring it up to Schuester. Schuester's only policy about dating was that, if he started the drama, he had to finish the drama, and keep it out of the office.

Sneaking into the room, Kurt didn't look in Blaine's direction, but felt his spine tingle, because he knew that he was behind him. He sat down at his desk and opened his laptop, and then looked at the slice of cheesecake. A small smile whisked his lips up. As he dragged it closer to himself, he slowly raised his eyes to Blaine, who he found staring at him. Kurt knew, from the look on his face, that he had been listening, even if he wouldn't admit to it. Frowning, Kurt met Blaine's eyes, and he murmured, "How have you been, Blaine?" Blaine didn't answer him, and it was like they had never known each other, as if they were back to when they had first met. Kurt hesitantly smiled at Blaine, "Hey… I have some ice cream in my freezer if you want it."

Both of them looked down when his phone started buzzing. Blaine instantly stood, checking the message as he walked over to the window. As he opened it, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his mask. Without a word to Kurt, he stuck his leg out of the window and ducked the rest of the way out. He floated for a few seconds, and then dropped. Kurt stared blankly at the window. "Or… not. The least you could do is say hello."

* * *

A few hours after he left his workplace, Kurt pampered himself with a long, hot bath, simply lying in the water that swayed at his chin, and then stepped out, dressing himself in an outfit that he hadn't gotten around to wearing because he'd bought it just in case he went to the occasional party. His top was a tan, baggy sweater, with black dots, and a pair of black pants. His feet were covered by a pair of black boots. To finish the look off, he'd donned a golden bracelet, with large, square jewels.

Once he had fidgeted with his appearance enough for him to be satisfied, he fed Pavarotti, and then grabbed his wallet and phone when he heard it go off. Unique had promised to text him when he pulled up, so Kurt snatched his keys from the counter and left his apartment. As he took the elevator down, he told himself that he couldn't believe he was doing this. He never tagged along to Unique's shenanigans. Exiting his building, he smiled at his best friend, who had rolled down the window and was leaning halfway out.

Unique, as he expected, looked like he belonged at the party scene, with a pink wig on that had been cut with bangs, and shaped into a bob, and a black, glittering dress that had a pink sash tied around the middle. Climbing into the back of the oversized truck, which Rodney had since he was in high school, Kurt flinched at the sound of the rumbling motor. Rodney, with as much as he made, could have traded it in for a smaller, sleeker car, but whined whenever someone complained about his baby. As Unique claimed, his boyfriend spent long hours with his truck, rubbing a towel over its doors, and using his hands on it more than he did Unique. Unique had playfully griped at him that when they had children, he had to turn it in for something safer, and, even then, Rodney had protested.

While Rodney adjusted his mirrors, Unique twisted around and smirked with her lipstick stained mouth, "Hey, honey. Look at you. I think every man will want a dance with you when we get to the bar. The guys are going to meet us there. Rodney, babe, doesn't Kurt look amazing?"

Kurt had never been very close to Rodney, who was six years older than him. The lean, tall man had hair cropped close to his head, and was usually quiet, unless he was set loose in a group of other men, who enjoyed his hobbies of burping and whistling at cute boys. Unique always whacked him on the head for both of those, and when Kurt giggled at the antics, Rodney was always the first to glower at him. Rodney looked in the mirror at him with his kind, brown eyes, "Yeah, he does, baby. Kurt, you look great. Now, listen to me, buddy. You don't let any man break your heart, okay? As soon as you dump one, move onto the next."

"That's right, Kurt. I want to see you flirting with at least one man tonight." Unique encouraged, and then looked down at his phone, clicking away at it.

Kurt settled into his seat, his hands searching for something to do so that he wasn't just looking out the window the entire time. But he didn't have anyone to text, so staring out the window was just what he did. He wondered if he looked in the right places, he might see Blaine in the sky. Thinking how ridiculous he was, Kurt closed his eyes, and didn't peel his lids back up until Rodney shut off the engine. He and Unique got out of the car, meeting back up to hold hands, while Kurt clambered from his seat and adjusted his sweater.

He followed them to the outdoor patio of the bar, which was blocked off by a small, black fence. This bar wasn't like the ones that littered the area around Kurt's college, but was meant for middle-aged people. It was a quieter bar, with a separate room for dancing, and another for eating and drinking. It also had the patio, where bands sometimes played, and people could sit around and talk. A group of guys were leaning against the fence, and all of them started shouting at the sight of Rodney. As they exchanged back slaps, a skinny boy with cinnamon colored hair removed himself from the chaos, and gave Kurt an affable smile. Folding himself over the fence, he said kindly, "You must be the Kurt that I've been hearing about. You're just as beautiful as Unique said you'd be."

Kurt blinked at the boy, "You're Sebastian?"

The boy nodded, but before he could say anything else, Unique grabbed his arm. "Kurt, come on. Let's go pay. What do you want to eat? I'm thinking about sharing a plate of hot wings with this guy."

When they got up to the entrance, Kurt looked over the menu. The only price to get into this place was what food was ordered, so Kurt got something light and cheap, a salad with raspberry dressing, and a cherry margarita. When he finished telling the man what he wanted, Unique winked at him, "That's right, Kurt. Drink a little tonight. Loosen up. I went straight for the tequila. I don't want to get hammered, but I want to get close to it."

Kurt went after his friends, who met up with the guys as they poured back in from outside. They found a booth near the back of the room, where Kurt could hear himself think. Kurt sat down beside of Unique, and ended up across from Sebastian, who smiled at him again, before he ended his conversation with one of his friends. Turning back to Kurt, he said, "Unique told me that you're a fashion journalist, too."

"Uh huh." Kurt nodded, "And you?"

"I don't have a job yet." Sebastian said bluntly, much to Kurt's surprise. "I just finished my sophomore year in college. I'm only nineteen." Suddenly laughing, he leaned back and swatted at another guy, "I'm actually here on a bet with Chad. He said I couldn't pass my chemistry test tomorrow morning if I stayed out all night."

The smile fell from Kurt's lips, "Isn't that… irresponsible?"

"Maybe." Sebastian shrugged nonchalantly, "I don't really care. Hey, do you want to dance before our food shows up?"

Before Kurt could respond, Sebastian stood and yanked him to his feet. Making a sound of objection, Kurt coyly stood still, feeling himself be observed under the scrutinizing eyes of those still sitting at the table. It seemed that everyone else wanted to be at least a little tipsy before they started dancing. But Kurt had been paired with the nineteen year old, who proudly wore a green stamp on his hand.

Sebastian grinded his hips at Kurt's, so Kurt lowered his arms, wrapping them around his waist. Another young guy sitting at the table whistled at Sebastian, "Get it, Sebastian."

Blushing, Kurt stood still as Sebastian danced around him, thrusting like an awkward chicken. "You really are beautiful." He said again, and Kurt wondered if he'd been programmed like a wind-up doll, to only say one thing. "So, you write, huh?"

"That's what journalists do." Kurt said begrudgingly, lowering back onto the booth when, luckily, the waiter came. "Excuse me, Sebastian. The drinks are here." As the waiter sorted out the drinks, he leaned closer to Unique, "Unique, you didn't tell me that he was nearly underage. You thought he'd be a good match for me? The conversation with him is so tedious."

Unique swirled his umbrella stick through his cocktail, "He's only three years younger than you. Kurt, you were _twelve_ years younger than Blaine. What's the matter, honey?" Kurt only shook his head, so Unique said softly, "Hey, why don't you and Sebastian walk out to the outdoor patio? I think he'd really like to get to know you. Give him a chance. You've only known him for five minutes."

Assuming that his first impression might have been a little skewed if Sebastian was nervous and could only express himself through immature humor, Kurt decided to give speaking alone with him a shot. Maybe that would calm him down, if his friends weren't observing him. Unique seemed to have seen something more in him. Stretching from the table, Kurt picked up his drink and said, "I'm going to get some fresh air. Sebastian, would you escort me outside?"

"Yeah!" Sebastian lurched from the table, and he slid over to Kurt, who took his offered arm. Sebastian wasn't much bigger than he was, if only by a few inches, and was thin, with arms that were hardly toned. His body was much different from Blaine's, which was compact and large, every inch of him layered with muscle. Sebastian was like a wiry cat, and seemed to be hollow, as if he would blow away. "So, why'd you want to go into journalism?"

Kurt breathed a sigh of relief that he'd finally been asked a personal question. "Since I was little, I've loved to write—"

"Neat." Sebastian continued, as if he hadn't spoken. "I've never liked to write. I don't even read. I'm too outdoorsy to sit down and stay idle for more than a few minutes."

Kurt's eye twitched at Sebastian's offensive words, "Sebastian, writers aren't idle people. I'm always thinking about something, and I keep myself physically healthy. I think that more people should read. It's easy to be ignorant, but isn't it better to know?"

Sebastian looked down at him, "Did you just call me stupid?"

Feeling ruffled by Sebastian, Kurt was about to tell him that he would know the answer to that if he would read more, when an ear-piercing scream whipped his head around. As they came to the same realization that he did, droves of people, who had been walking like cattle trying to escape the herding dog, slowed down in front of a hotel, which was across the street. Within the fifth floor, thick, gray puffs of smoke pressed against the windows until some of them shattered. Yellow, snake-like flames slithered out of the openings. On the ground, people shouted as ashes fell down on their heads. They shuffled backwards at the sound of creaking, as that entire floor gave out and was going to come crashing down on the one below it.

Frantically flicking his eyes over the front of the building, Kurt gasped as, through the haze that had built up in one room, he made out the form of a little girl, who was scratching at the window, a wall of fire creeping up behind her. "There's a child stuck in there!" He told Sebastian, who squinted where Kurt had been looking. As he was distracted, Kurt swung his leg over the fence and climbed over it, only being hindered for one second when his sweater snagged on a post. After he freed himself, Sebastian suddenly grabbed his wrist.

"Where are you going? Stay away from that area! The fire's so thick that the whole building could come tumbling down!" He informed Kurt, as if he wasn't already aware of this.

"And you expect me to just stand here, Sebastian? That little girl could die! Let go!" Ripping himself out of Sebastian's grip, Kurt darted through the stopped cars, which had crowded around the hotel. Some people were hanging out of their windows, trying to film the catastrophe. Getting to the parking lot of the hotel, Kurt pushed through the people who were standing by uselessly, as they rocked back and forth, looking around nervously for the fire department.

As soon as he was within fifteen feet of the building, a blast of heat hit Kurt's body, and he coughed as he breathed in the heavy smoke. He heard one woman cry behind him, "It's the man in the mask! Let him through!" Instantly, the people in front of him parted, and Kurt looked back at them, wondering why there weren't doing anything for the child.

Covering his face with his sleeve, Kurt pressed his hand onto the door and yelped, the glass so hot that it scalded his fingertips. He put his shoulder against the door and used his sweater for protection as he burst into the building. The roaring fire still hadn't touched the lobby, so he scurried through it without trouble. Getting to the stairs, Kurt cautiously opened the door and looked up before he entered. The black smoke was sinking from the fifth floor, gray, papery ashes swaying down.

Without giving it another thought, Kurt hurried up the first flight of stairs, almost stumbling and falling back down from how quickly he was moving. The stairs seemed to be a hurtle that took forever to get over, but, finally, Kurt was standing with the smoke hanging just above him, like a makeshift ceiling. His skin crawled, and through the crackling, he heard the horn of a fire truck. Squeezing his eyes shut, Kurt ducked his head and held his breath, as he went higher. The smoke was so hot that Kurt thought he was melting, and when he got up to the fifth floor, he collapsed to the ground.

He laid there for a second, catching his breath, and then screamed and rolled to the side when a painting snapped off of the wall and smacked the ground beside of him. Wriggling across the floor, Kurt called for the little girl, and turned his head when one of the doors flew open. The little girl was standing in the doorway, tears streaking down her face. She held her arms out, "Where's Mommy?" She cried above the loud hum of the fire.

Suddenly, the fire appeared down another hallway, like a person stalking them. It was moving quickly, and Kurt extended his arms. "Come here! Come here! We have to get out of here!" Backing up because she didn't want to go near the fire, the little girl gave him a helpless look. "Hurry! We can't stay here!"

All at once, there was a cracking noise above them, and Kurt lifted his head, watching with huge eyes as a section of the ceiling came crashing down. When it landed, it felt like the whole world had shaken, its thunderous boom echoing off of the walls. The little girl screeched again, and then became silent. Kurt raised his head to her again, asking if she was okay, as he felt himself panicking. He could never live with himself if he let her be crushed. Suddenly, Kurt felt himself be scooped off of the ground, his body tucked against someone's chest. Kurt saw the little girl being carried like a football under someone's arm, her huge eyes peering around her as the man taking them out of the building dodged another streak of fire that cut through the floor. He walked over to the glass and kicked it out with a booted foot, and then fell forward. Breathless, Kurt clung to the man's neck, his eyes watching the tiny dots of people become larger as they neared the ground.

When it seemed that they were going to crash, the man righted himself, and thudded to the concrete on two feet. Kurt struggled to free himself, but the man held onto him, as he deposited the little girl in a woman's arms. The woman told him how grateful she was, as the crowd closed in on them. The man shrugged them off, eating the ground with his steps as he hoisted Kurt up higher, carrying him with ease. When they got out of the large crowd, Kurt saw his friends run over, each of them wearing expressions of horror. Unique covered his mouth at the sight of him. "Kurt—" His voice was strangled, but the man promptly disregarded him, tromping past him and taking Kurt across the street.

As they distanced themselves from the blazing fire, which the firefighters were trying to take control of, Kurt shivered at the temperature difference. The man instantly clutched him closer, lending him his body heat. They reached a private area in a cluster of trees, and that was when he finally let him down. Kurt stumbled to right himself, his body still shaky, and found that it was easiest to prop himself against a tree. Without looking at him, he knew that it was Blaine who rescued him. Realizing that Blaine wasn't going to speak, Kurt flickered his eyes up to his stony face, "You saved my life."

Blaine shrugged, "It's what I do—"

"But you didn't have to." Kurt argued, "You could have left me in there. I should have known that you'd show up. But… when I saw that little girl in there—"

"I know why you did it." He said shortly. "Were you being dumb? Probably. But that little girl would have been killed had you not run up there. The room that she was stuck in completely collapsed a matter of seconds after you called for her." Blaine's eyes suddenly flashed to his face, gleaming like gold through the night, "All I can do is ask you to never endanger yourself again. You seem to have a knack for getting yourself in trouble."

"Wait, Blaine…" Kurt reached out for him when he took a step back. "Where are you going?"

"Back to my apartment. Do you want me to walk you back to Sebastian?"

"Sebastian?" Kurt had almost forgotten about him. Blinking, he brought himself back to reality, but Blaine was still standing there, so he still felt like he was in another world. "Blaine… Sebastian isn't… I'm not interested in him!" Blaine abruptly twisted back around, his eyes hollow behind his mask. Kurt realized that if he let his ex-boyfriend get away now, there would be no going back. He curled his hands into fists, "Blaine…" Unable to come up with anything else, Kurt rushed over to Blaine and placed his hands on his shoulders. "Blaine, I can't do this."

Blaine's hands lowered to Kurt's round waist, "Do what?" Kurt shook his head, his head lifting. He met Blaine's emotionless eyes, and he reached up and touched the edge of his mask. Blaine blinked as Kurt slid it up, revealing his eyes, which had red lines surrounding them. From how close he was, Kurt could finally see what he wanted to see—a thin film of moisture sealed on the surface of Blaine's eyes, showing Kurt that the fact that he had been in danger upset Blaine.

Knowing that Blaine was what he wanted—even with all of the rockiness that came with their relationship—Kurt tipped his head back and grabbed Blaine's face. He parted his lips, pressing them over Blaine's. Instantly, Blaine's arm locked around his waist, and he kissed Kurt back firmly. Kurt curled his hand into Blaine's cape, wrapping it slightly around his body so Blaine enfolded him. He smelled the fire on Blaine's lips, but stopped breathing when Blaine slid his tongue out, pushing it into Kurt's mouth. Whimpering, Kurt wrapped his other arm around Blaine's neck. He pulled slightly away from Blaine, whispering into his lips as Blaine pressed a series of kisses onto Kurt's mouth, "Take me to your apartment. We need to talk about this, Blaine."

"You're giving me another chance?" Blaine's voice was wrecked with emotion, "No one's ever done that before."

Kurt caressed Blaine's tense jaw, "I don't want to lose you… but we need to have some boundaries, Blaine. That's what I want to talk to you about. But… how will we ever get to your apartment? I drove here with Unique, and you must have flown—" Kurt's eyes widened to the size of saucers when Blaine tightened his grip. "Oh, no. No, no. We are not going to fly to your apartment—" His voice broke off when Blaine raised his feet from the ground, hovering just an inch above stability. Squeaking, Kurt buried his face in Blaine's neck, hiding himself from reality as Blaine lifted higher and higher. "Blaine! I want to go back down!"

"But it's so much nicer up here." Blaine said clearly, his voice becoming much less shaky as he gained confidence from Kurt's willingness to take him back. "I've got you, Kurt." Flattening himself out horizontally with the world, he pinned Kurt to his chest. Kurt slowly peeled one eye open, and he inhaled sharply at the sight of the trees beneath him, like pointy spheres that were getting farther away. Closing his eyes, Kurt wrapped his fingers around Blaine's arms, which were hooked around his middle. Blaine suddenly chuckled lowly, his lips brushing the back of Kurt's head. "You don't have to be afraid. I'm right here."

Reluctantly parting his lids once more, Kurt forced himself to keep his eyes open. He looked down at the streets below them, cars roaming around like tiny ants. Blaine took them around the corner of a skyscraper, and Kurt almost smiled as he held his hand out and touched the side of the building. He could see himself reflected in the glass, suspended in Blaine's arms. His cheeks were rosy from all of the excitement, and his blue eyes glittered, the streetlights bouncing off of them. To Kurt's alarm, Blaine swooped down. The breath rushed out of Kurt's lungs, like the feeling he got at the top of a rollercoaster. He squealed, and the sound melted into an airy giggle, as Blaine lowered him to the surface of a lake. Kurt's nose nearly brushed the water.

He held his hand out and dragged his fingers through the chilly water, watching the ripples roll away in a circular formation, until there was nothing left of them. Blaine raised them up once more, and Kurt laughed out loud that time, "This is amazing." Peeking up at Blaine's face, Kurt saw his strong jaw, his eyes directed forward. But then Blaine glanced down at him, and they shared a gentle smile. Kurt blushed at the way that Blaine looked at him, turning away and looking back down at the ground.

Blaine flew them over an empty field, and he slowed down when they reached a patch of flowers. Pressing Kurt deeper into him, Blaine used one of his hands to pluck a daisy, and gave it to Kurt, whose heart thumped unusually faster at the gesture. Relaxed, Kurt raised his head a little, and nuzzled it into the crook of Blaine's neck. Kurt didn't know how he could have ever thought he could be without Blaine. The rest of their flight was quiet, as Kurt felt some of the terrains they passed over, and listened to Blaine's breathing.

After a few minutes, Blaine raised them up again, angling himself nearly vertically as he flew over the top of another building. He suddenly slowed down in front of a large, brick building with windows down the sides of it. Lowering them to the ground, Blaine set Kurt onto his feet, and bundled him in his arms. Kurt laid his head on Blaine's shoulder, glad that Blaine had taken him back, after their fight. Blaine ran his fingers through Kurt's hair, and he whispered in his ear, "I'm falling so fast for you."

Kurt blinked at Blaine's words, knowing what they implied. Blaine meant that he was in danger of falling in love with Kurt. Closing his eyes, Kurt simply accepted what he knew was true, and told Blaine, "I'm falling for you, too."

Blaine kissed him again, his lips hot and slow, and when they pulled apart, Kurt was left with a pair of tingling lips, and a low throb that had settled in his lower belly. Taking Blaine's hand, Kurt followed him into the apartment complex. It looked very similar to Kurt's, with bland colors, and an elevator near the back. They stepped inside of it and stayed quiet because they were riding up with an older couple, and when they got to Blaine's floor, Kurt let him lead the way. Blaine took him over to a tan door, which he opened after giving it a jiggle of his keys. He flipped on the lights, letting Kurt see how he really lived, since he'd never been to his apartment before.

The apartment, unlike Kurt's, was decorated minimally, and hardly looked lived in. Kurt was filled with a moment of sadness, because it became clear to him that Blaine never really got to relax, with all of the crime going on outside. His walls were a dark blue, and he had a black couch that sat in front of a TV. He had his writing materials scattered over a desk. The kitchen was open, and also looked very empty. Suddenly turning back to Blaine, Kurt watched him kick his shoes off and take his mask out of his pocket. He tossed it onto the coffee table, and then looked at Kurt. "Um…" Blaine looked awkward, as if he'd never done this before. "The bathroom and bedroom are back here."

Clasping Blaine's hand in his, Kurt followed him down the hallway and entered the bedroom. Blaine had a dresser in one corner, and a bed in the other, but nothing else in the room. He sat down on his bed, watching him open his closet and dig through it. He quirked a brow at Blaine, "Blaine… have you ever brought a boy home before?"

Blaine shook his head, "No… I haven't. You're the first one."

Frowning, Kurt scooted back on the bed, and propped himself up on the pillows. "Come here. I want to talk." Blaine twisted around, his eyes going back to the empty way that they were before. Lowering onto the bed, he smiled weakly when Kurt boosted himself up and lassoed his arms around his neck. He nibbled on Blaine's earlobe, his voice soft when he spoke, "I want to be with you… so badly. But, Blaine, you can't use your powers against me anymore. Okay? I want to have my privacy. No more listening to my conversations, no matter how trifle they may be. And you can't erase my memory… not even a second of it. I want our relationship to be honest and open. If you make a mistake, just apologize for it. Don't take that memory from me. It isn't fair to me."

As Kurt played in Blaine's thick hair, Blaine nodded, "I understand. What I did to you was wrong. It was a moment of petty insecurity. I've never had anything stable, Kurt, and I was so scared that you'd leave me over one bad date. I need to be more trusting. I'm so sorry for what I did. It will never happen again."

Kurt smiled, "I forgive you, Blaine. But I wanted to talk to you about something else." He placed his hand at Blaine's nape, touching the fuzzy hairs that grew there, "Blaine… what you do for other people is so admirable. You're the bravest man I know. But… Blaine, when your phone goes off, I know that some of the alerts aren't very urgent, and you help out just because you can. Tonight, during that fire, you saved someone's life. But, do you think that, when no one is in danger of being physically harmed, you could let the police handle it? If you scope out all of the crime that happens in New York, I'll never be able to see my own boyfriend. A-And I don't want you to think that I'm being selfish… but, Blaine, I—"

"You're not being selfish." Blaine scooted back on the bed, and he leaned against the headboard. He took Kurt against his chest, smoothing his messy hair, "Kurt, I'm tired. I'm so exhausted of never doing anything that I want to do. It seems like it never stops. And I'm ready to settle down and have a family. I need to go out less. I promise you that I'll only go out if someone really needs me." Suddenly fumbling in his pocket, Blaine pulled out his phone, and Kurt's face fell. He'd just gotten comfortable with Blaine, and didn't know what he would do if he left. But then Blaine pressed a button, and the phone shut off. He put it aside, and returned his hand to Kurt's head.

"Thank you." Kurt whispered, stretching his neck so he could reach Blaine's lips. "Blaine… I think I'm ready."

Blaine furrowed his brows, "Ready? For what, baby?"

"I want you to make love to me." Kurt's cheeks flushed a deep pink as Blaine sat up, a wide smile stretching across his lips. "Please? If you… still want me."

"Of course I do." Blaine scoffed, rolling them over until Kurt landed underneath him. Kurt's eyes fluttered shut when Blaine bowed over him, his large arms pressing into the pillow on either side of his head. Blaine brushed his mouth over Kurt's, and Kurt shuddered as Blaine's hot body pushed down on his, the material of his clothes rubbing Kurt's naked skin. Kurt popped his eyes open, watching Blaine fling his clothes to the side.

Gasping, Kurt covered his chest and his groin with his arms, and Blaine chuckled into his mouth. "Does the speed freak you out? I won't do that again, if it bothers you."

"I don't know what to do." Kurt said throatily, as Blaine pushed himself up and opened the drawer on his bedside table. He rummaged through it, and pulled out a container of lube.

"You're fine, baby." Blaine encouraged him, "Let me pleasure you this time. I'm your first. I'll take care of you." Flicking his eyes over his shoulder, he traced them over Kurt's pink body, hesitating at his slightly curved hips, and then at his face. Blaine, briefly forgetting about opening the bottle of lube, bent back over Kurt and kissed his mouth. "You're so beautiful. I'm going to be gentle with you."

Kurt's eyes softened at Blaine, and he slowly removed his arms from his body. "Do… what you want with me. I don't know anything about this."

Blaine tilted his head, moving back over to Kurt as he squirted the lube into his palm. "Nothing at all?"

Kurt's blush brightened, "W-Well… a little. I know that… you'll put your… your part inside of me. And that y-you need the lube to make it easier. I-I've never had a sex talk before. My d-dad tried to give me one… but I stuck my fingers into my ears and walked away from him."

Throwing his head back, Blaine laughed louder than Kurt had ever heard him laugh. When he calmed down again, he grinned from ear to ear at Kurt, "You're so adorable. Don't worry, baby. I'm here… and I would never do anything that you didn't like. You can trust me." After he warmed the lube between his hands, he reached down for Kurt's legs and nudged them apart. Kurt tried to keep them closed, absolutely mortified, and Blaine smirked once more. "Would it make you comfortable if I undressed before I opened you up?"

"I-I… don't know." Kurt twitched at the thought of seeing Blaine naked, and how that might actually make his embarrassment worse.

Blaine glanced down at the bulge that had pressed against the crotch of his pants, "Honey, my cock is going to have to come out through my zipper, or I'm going to take everything off. Here, baby… why don't you explore my body? That might make it easier on you. I promise you that I'm just a guy. I have a body under these clothes. It's okay to touch me."

Swallowing thickly, Kurt watched Blaine take one of his delicate hands and press it to his chest. The heat of his skin sank through his shirt, and it was almost like he wasn't wearing anything at all. Curling his fingers into the shirt, Kurt looked up at Blaine's face to make sure it was okay as he started to pat around his chest. "There you go, sweetheart. See? This isn't as scary as you think it is. I think that sex, when it's done between two people who care deeply for one another, can be one of the most amazing acts that the human body can endure." When Kurt reached Blaine's lower stomach, he hesitated, his fingers digging into the hard plains of his abs. Blaine grabbed his hand once more and brought it down to his groin, where the unmistakable shape of an engorged penis was resting against Blaine's thigh. Blaine grunted at the way his cock scraped his zipper.

Squeezing the outline of the cock, Kurt tried to familiarize himself with it, while he detached himself from the fact that he was holding Blaine's cock. As he rubbed his palm up and down, Blaine let out a hiss, and Kurt removed his hand. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No." Blaine shook his head. "It's just… my pants. They're really tight. And having you rub my cock was almost painful. I'm really… attracted to you, Kurt." When Blaine opened his eyes, his pupils had expanded. "Is it alright if I take off my pants… or at least open my zipper? It won't make you uneasy?"

Kurt shook his head, even though he wasn't really sure what seeing Blaine's penis would do to him. Careful not to wipe off the lube, Blaine unbuttoned his pants and kicked them down his legs, until they were bunched up around his ankles. Kurt stared at Blaine's boxers, which had formed a tent, as Blaine's cock tried to stand up. When Blaine started to push those down, Kurt stopped him, "Could I… do it?"

Blaine removed his hands, "Yeah, baby." Lifting his hips, Blaine made it easier on Kurt to slip his fingers into the waistband of Blaine's boxers and drag them down his thighs. Kurt's mouth fell open as Blaine's tan cock, which was veiny and thick, was revealed, inch by inch. His underwear finally slipped off of the tip, and Blaine's cock bobbed upward, before falling against his stomach. Leaving Blaine's underwear at his knees, Kurt slowly stretched his hand out and scraped a fingertip over the shaft, following the outline of a large vein. The silky skin moved over the hard muscle, gathering at his tip, before Kurt pulled it back down. Blaine took a shaky breath, his head falling back.

Bowing his head, Kurt made his lips circular, and pressed kisses up and down the shaft. When he reached the tip, he poked his tongue out and swiped it along the slit, which pre-cum had dribbled out of. He suckled the tip between his lips, milking Blaine, and flicked his tongue over the drooling slit. Kurt clumsily sank his mouth over Blaine's shaft, his thoughts concentrated on keeping his teeth away from the sensitive muscle. Drawing back off with a pop, he spent some attention at his thick testicles, licking and kissing the smooth sacs, before he returned to Blaine's stiff penis, which was spitting out a clear, milky liquid. He rested his cheek on Blaine's hard stomach, tracing his fingers up and down the penis as he kissed the tip. It was what he seemed to be best at.

Above him, Blaine garbled out nonsense, telling Kurt ridiculous love words, and whispering about how much he wanted to be inside of him. Suddenly, Blaine grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back up. Kurt laughed at the wild look in his eyes, his face dark with exertion, and a thin layer of sweat dribbling down his forehead. It seemed he had been yanking at a few tufts of hair. "I was going to come if you kept doing that. You've never done this before?"

"Was I okay?" Kurt asked shyly, and made a low sound when Blaine flipped him onto his back. He drew his knees up as Blaine lowered his head between his thighs, and he met Blaine's smiling eyes, which peered at him over his soft stomach. Blaine wrapped his muscular hand around Kurt's cock, which wasn't nearly as thick or long as Blaine's. "B-Blaine…"

"Shh… it's okay. Have you ever touched yourself, Kurt?" Kurt shook his head, and Blaine's eyes became kinder. "I'm going to make you orgasm, okay? Just with my hands and tongue. But I'm going to do it my way."

"Your way?" Kurt tilted his head to the side, and watched Blaine rub his hand up and down his penis, which hardened with interest. Blaine lowered his head over Kurt's tip, wetting it with the flat of his tongue. Kurt let out a soft whimper, listening to Blaine slurp and suck at his cock, as his hand came up and wrapped around one of the bedposts, and his other grabbed at Blaine's hair. Suddenly, Blaine moved his hand faster, and he pressed the heel of his other hand against Kurt's sacs.

Kurt's eyes fluttered shut, but Blaine whispered for him to open, so Kurt did everything in his power to open one of his eyes. "O-Oh…" All at once, Kurt flung his head back when Blaine went faster on his cock, the side of his hand slapping Kurt's testicles. Blaine's hand seemed to be everywhere at once, and Kurt raised his hips, pushing his penis into Blaine's fist.

"That's right, baby. Take what you want." Sliding his hand even faster, Blaine removed his other hand from Kurt's testicles and pressed two fingers into Kurt's entrance. Kurt cried out, his body arching at the ceiling. Humming, Kurt popped his hips in rhythm with Blaine's hand, and snapped his eyes open as everything inside of him melted into a pile of mush. He panted for a few seconds, and then looked down at Blaine, who was lapping the come off of his penis.

Raising his head, Blaine slid back up Kurt's body, and kissed Kurt, letting him taste himself. He wrapped his legs around Blaine, pressing his heels into his ass cheeks, and giggled as Blaine bundled him up and pulled him closer. Holding onto Blaine, Kurt felt himself flip over. His eyes became huge as Blaine's body raised from the bed. "Blaine!" He cried, and Blaine laughed at his funny expression. Unable to do anything but hold onto Blaine, Kurt gasped when his back and butt hit the ceiling. "I'm not doing this with you on the _ceiling!_ That's not how I imagined my first time."

Blaine snorted, "Let's try it. You might like it." Spreading Kurt's legs with a movement of his hips, he thrust upward, and Kurt couldn't help but moan at the way Blaine's tip slipped over his hole. "So… when you imagined your first time, did you ever see a man? Did you see his face? He was uglier than me, wasn't he?"

Kurt giggled, fumbling with Blaine to get in the right position for him to go inside. "Much uglier, Blaine. He was practically a _toad._ But… then again… he did look a little like you. He had curly, black hair, and these golden eyes. And—oh, he might have actually been you!" Kurt burst into laughter when Blaine kissed him firmly, hushing his insults. When Blaine pushed up again, Kurt rolled his eyes, "If we weren't on the ceiling, this would be much easier."

"Nonsense. Everything's better when you're off the ground. Do you know how many football games I've watched without getting tickets?"

Kurt narrowed his eyes, "You like football?"

Blaine grinned proudly, "As much as you like scarves."

"Oh, no." Kurt put his hand over his mouth, "That might just be a deal breaker, Blaine. Put me down. I'm going home now. This relationship won't go anywhere else."

Blaine glared, "Oh, come on. Can I at least have sex with you first? I went to the trouble of getting you up here."

Kurt laughed until Blaine hushed him with his mouth, and he drew his smiling mouth down, becoming serious. He whispered into Blaine's lips, "I'm yours now. Take me." Reaching for his penis, Blaine aligned it with Kurt's entrance. With one slide of his hips, he buried himself in Kurt, who opened his mouth in a silent cry. At first, there was a jarring sting as his body was invaded, but when Blaine stayed still for a few seconds, the burn was replaced by a full feeling, his nerves buzzing as Blaine rubbed his cock back and forth, massaging himself on Kurt's interior.

Held up in Blaine's arms, Kurt experienced the sensation of falling, as Blaine plunged in and out of him. Those two feelings, put together, rendered Kurt breathless, quiet mewls breaking from his lips as Blaine mouthed at his neck and chest. He purred in Blaine's arms, and then squeezed his eyes shut when Blaine tilted his hips in a different direction, his tip bumping into a tiny bundle of nerves that made Kurt jolt. "There you go… There's your sweet spot." Blaine grumbled, pumping his cock faster when Kurt adjusted to his girth.

Once again, the world seemed to slow down as Kurt came, this orgasm slower and softer than the last. His eyes fluttered shut, his body falling limp in Blaine's arms. As Kurt clamped around him, Blaine also spilled his seed, filling Kurt up. Wrung of his energy, Blaine lowered them back to the bed, and he pulled out of Kurt, who wriggled at the unusual emptiness he felt between his cheeks. As Blaine adjusted Kurt over his body and laid him against his chest, he murmured weakly, "So gorgeous. How did I ever get so lucky?"

Smiling, Kurt cuddled deeper into Blaine's chest. He listened to his heartbeat for several minutes, feeling the sweat cool on their bodies, and their heart rates slow down. After a little while, he whispered against Blaine's tight nipple, "I didn't have any friends during high school. When I was younger, my dad homeschooled me. He thought it would be best for me, because I was… picked on a lot, by other children. After I finished up junior high, my dad had to start working overtime at the car shop. We were tight on money, Blaine. With more people going to brand name car shops, my dad was losing business, and with only one person in the family working, we weren't doing very well. My dad didn't have time to help me with my studies, so he sent me to a real high school… McKinley High School."

"My freshman year was fine. I didn't meet anyone, and I spent most of my time alone. To everyone else, I was just a shy, new kid. When I wasn't doing homework, I was writing. I didn't bother anyone. When I came back the next year… it was like… like everyone was angry, all the time. I tried to join a glee club. I loved to sing. But this glee club wasn't for singing. Every time I walked in the classroom, my classmates were screaming at each other. I was terrified… these two girls were especially rambunctious. They would grab each other's hair and throw each other to the ground. The girls, for the most part ignored me, but the boys would go out of their way to mock me. Every time I sang, they would call me names… shove me. Needless to say, I quit after two months. But… that wasn't the worst of it. It was this group of jocks that went out of their way to make my life miserable. During my junior year, they started to hunt me out, because I was the only gay kid at the school."

"The bullying started out innocently enough. They would usually just stop me in the hallway and ruffle my clothes. They'd yell at me. I could handle that. But…" Kurt's eyes darkened as he stared at a patch of hair on Blaine's chest. Blaine, as if he sensed that something was wrong, stroked his hand over his head. Kurt continued after gulping thickly, "But… there was this one boy who was different from the rest. He looked at me as if… as if he had never hated anyone more than me, even though I had never said two words to him. His name was David, but everyone called him Karofsky. For a while, he did as the others did. He would push me and call me names, but… there was this one day that wasn't like that. It was just after my dad and Carole had gotten engaged. They came into school to surprise me with the news, and Karofsky overheard. I kept these two dolls in my locker… a bride and a groom… because I've always loved weddings. I picked them up, and I was looking at them. Karofsky stomped over to me and stole them right out of my hand. He didn't say anything to me. He touched my neck, and had this awful glare on his face. And then he turned around, and walked away. I never got my dolls back."

"His bullying got worse. The others… They would ignore me, most of the time. But, every time he saw me, he'd slam me into the lockers or slap me. I had these dark, swollen bruises all over my skin. I hid them from my dad. I didn't want him to worry. But it was starting to drain me. I lost interest in my food, mainly because it hurt to eat. I didn't feel like studying any more. But I wrote more often. There was one day when… I'd had enough. As he always did, Karofsky pushed me down. But this was the first time that I got up. I chased after him. I don't remember what I was saying, but I was screaming for him to stop. I ran into the locker room, and before I even got one foot through the door, he smacked me so hard that… that I blacked out for a second. I fell to the ground. I remember the look on his face… so angry and twisted. He told me that he would kill me, so I tried to get away from him. I couldn't get my footing, so I crawled out of the locker room, and finally pulled myself up. As soon as I did, I ran into more of them."

"They held me back and let… let Karofsky hit me. All I could do was cry. They were so much stronger than me. When I thought that I couldn't take anymore, my stepbrother finally walked down the hallway. He pulled me away from them, and I remember clinging to his neck. He carried me to the principal's office, and… and I sat in his lap, too scared to even open my eyes. My dad and Carole came in, and they took me home. Karofsky was given a week of suspension. My dad and Carole tried to pull me out of the school, but they couldn't afford to do anything else with me. I had to stay there. When Karofsky came back, though… something was different about him. He avoided me like I was diseased. And… that was when I started receiving these anonymous texts. This person would tell me that if I didn't go on a date with him, he'd kill himself. He told me that I saw him every day, but that he wasn't out yet. These texts were… disgusting. Finn somehow got a hold of my phone one day and discovered the texts. He let my dad know, and he had the number blocked. I could tell that it was eating my dad up, having to send me to that school. But there was nothing more that he could have done."

"When I went back to school a few days later, I found out that Karofsky had attempted suicide. I left early and went to the hospital, and the first thing he said when I walked through the door was that he loved me, and wanted me to consider him for a boyfriend. I told him that I wasn't interested in him romantically, but wanted to get to know him as a friend. When he was released, I took him out to lunch and talked to him about his sexuality. He was so… confused, Blaine. He was frustrated, and didn't know how to get that out of his system in a healthy way. When we left the restaurant, I thought that he was doing better, but he still… did it. He hanged himself in his closet. And I've… I've always thought that I was to blame. I k-know that it isn't my fault, but he told me that he'd do it if I wouldn't be his boyfriend."

Blaine gradually raised himself up, his muscles contracting under Kurt's head. "Sweetheart… look at me. Don't ever think that you did anything wrong by not giving in to his threats. That man… David… he had deeper problems than not having you as his boyfriend, if he tried to kill himself. He would have done it, anyway, whether or not you agreed to date him. I don't think he was ready to have a boyfriend, if he couldn't even accept himself. He would have just gotten angrier with you. And it was never about you… He would have harassed any gay person to date him. It just turned out that you were the only one he could find. Baby, you did everything that you could for him, and more than many other people would have. He tormented you, and you forgave all of it and went after him. You were with him during his final hours. And I'm sure that he knew, even before you refused him, that he was going to try again. Your answer didn't matter. You were good to him, when he didn't deserve that. You're a good person, Kurt."

Kurt shook his head, "When I found out that he was in the closet, it all made sense to me. I know that I was scared when I came out to my dad. But… I had support, and Karofsky didn't have anyone. His only friends were homophobic jocks. He needed someone, and I knew just what to say to him… or, at least, I thought I did."

Blaine smoothed Kurt's hair again, "Kurt… thank you for telling me this. I'll never misuse your trust again—"

Smiling up at Blaine, Kurt murmured, "It's already forgotten. Um… Blaine, do you think that I could sleep over here? It's so late, and dark, and as much as I like flying, I—"

Blaine chuckled, kissing Kurt's forehead, "Go to sleep, sweetheart. I'll wake you up in the morning. If I keep you away for too long, Pavarotti will hate me again."

* * *

The following day, Kurt drove with Blaine and Unique back to his apartment after work. That morning, he had been cornered by the flustered boy, who had questioned him about what he had been thinking last night, running into a burning hotel, and then going off with a stranger in a mask. Blaine had then appeared, two coffees in his hands, and he'd kissed Kurt's mouth. When they pulled apart, Unique looked like his eyes were going to pop out of his head.

After they'd been separated by a glare from Schuester, Blaine had taken Kurt across his lap and said that Kurt ought to tell Unique, rather than having Blaine wipe his memory, so that Kurt could have the support that he needed. Kurt had given some protesting, and warned that Unique couldn't keep his lips sealed to save his life, but Blaine had simply said that they could explain, in thorough words, how this was probably the most important secret Unique would ever hear, and that he had to keep his mouth shut.

As Blaine prepared an early dinner in the kitchen, Kurt sat with Unique on the couch, relaying all that he could about Blaine's secret without revealing anything about Blaine's problems with his family. Unique stared at him, eyes bulging and jaw unhinged, and Kurt finished lamely, "And… that man in the mask… That was Blaine. He rescued me."

Unique shut his mouth when Blaine returned, toting a plate of chopped vegetables. "Dinner will be done in thirty minutes." He said, lowering beside of Kurt and hooking his arm around his shoulders. He raised a brow at the look Unique was giving him, "What? Too weird?"

"So… you have, like, super powers?"

Blaine shrugged nonchalantly, sipping his drink. "I wouldn't call them that, but, yes. When I was younger, they were like a curse. Remember what it was like to go through puberty? I went through that, and I had to deal with getting the hang of these powers. If I coughed, I would start floating. I was the strange kid."

Unique looked at them suspiciously, "Wait… wait. Where did you two go last night? What happened? You were just broken up."

Kurt glimpsed over at Blaine, rubbing his hand through his curls, "We… uh… well, Blaine took me back to his apartment. We talked for a while. We've decided that we're better off together. I care very deeply for Blaine—"

"Did you have sex?" Unique assumed, sitting forward and blinking at both of them. When Kurt blushed, Unique's mouth fell open, "Kurt! I thought there was something different about you! How was it?"

"It was the height of my night. Can we change the subject?" At the way Kurt had worded that, Blaine snorted behind his hand, and Unique gave both of them a strange look. Becoming stoic, Kurt leaned forward and patted his best friend's hand. "But, Unique, you can't tell anyone about this. It could endanger Blaine if word of this got out. Please… for me, and the safety of my boyfriend… keep this to yourself."

"Oh, of course. You have my word." Unique snapped his eyes back to Blaine, "So, you're saying that, if I come into contact with this kryptonite, I could get superpowers, too?"

"Possibly." Blaine shrugged, "But I wouldn't advise tracking it down. There's an extremely low percentage of people who are mutated by it."

"And what happens to the other percentage of people?"

"Death." Blaine said bluntly. "The excruciating kind. Stay away from it, Unique." Unique's face blanched almost comically.

Getting to his feet, Kurt excused himself from the room, "I'm going to let Pavarotti out of his cage. It's time for him to stretch his wings. I'll be back in a minute." He brushed his hand over his boyfriend's shoulder, exiting the room, and walking back to his bedroom. When he got to Pavarotti's cage, he saw the little bird sprucing up his feathers. "Hi, sweetheart. Are you taking a bath? Why don't you come out and visit with Blaine and Unique?"

Opening the cage door, he held out his hand for Pavarotti and pulled him out when he hopped onto his palm. He stroked his bird's head, listening to him hum happily, when his ears picked up the sound of Unique muttering lowly, as if he didn't want Kurt to overhear. Furrowing his brows, Kurt snuck over to the doorway and peered out at his best friend and boyfriend. Blaine was idly flipping through TV channels, while Unique leaned forward, saying something to him. Kurt strained his ears, taking a few more steps forward, and overheard, "But what are you planning to do with him?"

Blaine disinterestedly glanced at Unique, "What do you mean?"

Unique looked exasperated by Blaine's obliviousness, "I mean… you know, you're a thirty four year old man. You've been talking about settling down with a husband and family. If you didn't want Kurt to be that husband, you would have moved on to someone else by now. Have you really been thinking about proposing to him?"

"No one said anything about proposing." Blaine put in, "I still have time to get married. I mean, I wouldn't be against marrying Kurt, but he and I still have some things to work out. We just started dating. Let's just say… I'm not actively thinking about proposing, but it might be in my future. I don't know yet. I need to figure out what Kurt wants."

Unique leaned back again, "If the fact that Kurt waited until he was twenty two to get a boyfriend isn't a big enough hint, I'll just tell you myself that Kurt isn't dating just to date around."

Blaine arched an intrigued brow, "Unique… can I ask you if Kurt has ever spoken to you about… why it was me? What did I do to warrant his affections? When we first met, I could barely bring myself to talk to him."

"I don't know. He's never explained it to me. But he's been besotted with you practically since the first day." Kurt smiled at Unique's interpretation of his feelings for Blaine, and then widened his eyes when Pavarotti chirped in his hands. Luckily, neither Blaine nor Unique seemed to pay any attention to the bird's noises, but Unique did call back for him to get his booty back in the room.

"I'm coming!" Kurt swiped a few treats for Pavarotti, who Blaine usually liked to be the one to feed. As he plopped beside of Blaine, he kissed his cheek, and then tucked himself under his arm.

* * *

Three months later, Blaine moved into Kurt's apartment. They had been talking about it for a month, and debating who would move into whose apartment, and what stuff they would keep, and what they would throw out. Kurt's apartment had been the obvious choice because it included a guest room, which Kurt insisted he had to keep in case his parents came up for another visit. They'd sold Kurt's bedframe and mattress when they figured out that Blaine's was slightly wider and longer, but had gotten rid of Blaine's dresser, because Kurt's had the extra space he needed to keep his facial products stored.

After that, they'd both gone through their closets and pulled out outfits that they never wore and didn't want to keep, to make for extra room. Once they were finished selling everything that they couldn't use anymore, and after Blaine's apartment went off the market, they'd pocketed enough money to invest on groceries and the electric bill for the next two months, as well as a small, weekend trip, which they both agreed that they were in need of, after this stressful move. While Blaine stayed downstairs with the moving truck, Kurt stood in his apartment, giving everything one last check to make sure it was all in place for when Blaine moved his things in. Blaine didn't have much to bring with him, to Kurt's surprise. When Kurt had gone over to his apartment the night before to help him pack, Blaine had already had everything in one suitcase—a few outfits, body soap and shampoo, a hairbrush, and a toothbrush and paste. He didn't even have any movies or picture frames. Blaine had never needed much in life, since he never had the luxury of staying home for long, before he was called back out to help someone else.

Suddenly, his apartment door opened, and Kurt turned a bright smile in that direction, only to be startled by the sight of his boyfriend, standing alone in the doorway. He held his bedframe and mattress in either hand. "Blaine, where are the men we hired to move your things?"

"I paid them. They left." Blaine blinked, as if he didn't understand why Kurt was asking.

"But how did you bring those up without help? Aren't they heavy—?" And then Kurt realized what dumb questions those were when Blaine heaved both of the objects under his arms, not breaking a sweat as he carried them past Kurt. "That's how you did it. You like the arrangements of the bedroom, don't you? We could have the bed against this wall… Pavarotti's cage would be moved over a little. But he would get more sunlight in that spot. You know how Pavarotti loves the heat."

"Yeah, babe." Without releasing a grunt, Blaine set the bedframe down where Kurt had told him it would go, and then placed the mattress on top of it. "I like the setup." Groaning, Blaine fell back on the naked mattress and stretched, "The move is finally over."

Kurt quirked a brow, "I thought that you wouldn't get tired over a little physical labor."

Blaine's chuckling body shook the bed, "I'm not, dammit! I was laying myself out for you. I thought that we could celebrate the move by spending the rest of the day in bed." Sitting up, he wiggled his brows at Kurt, who giggled and backed away from him.

"But the bed isn't even made! It's just a mattress."

The smile on Blaine's face fell, "Kurt, we have had sex on the ceiling… multiple times. You're complaining about a stripped mattress? It looks like I'm going to have to do this the hard way." Swinging a hand out at Kurt, he grabbed him around his waist and dragged him closer. Kurt squealed giddily, struggling to get away.

"Get off of me, you pompous man! You have to unpack! _Blaine,_ I'm ticklish there! Don't you dare touch that—!" Kurt swatted at his boyfriend, who laughed as he toppled Kurt to the mattress, and quieted him with his mouth.

* * *

The only problem that Kurt found with living with Blaine was that his absences became much more real. Despite not leaving for every emergency that came up, Blaine still took off about once every three days. Besides that drawback of having Blaine close, Kurt discovered that he loved having someone to share his space, and his life, with. He and Blaine lived very similarly, waking up at the same time. They took turns making breakfast, and then showered very quickly together, and brushed their teeth, and then left in the same car. Blaine had started going to lunch with Kurt and Unique, but still knew to give them their space, so he only went occasionally. Even though he felt bad that his boyfriend felt that he couldn't be included, he appreciated that Blaine respected the time that Kurt needed with his friends.

At the end of the day, they drove home together, or went out to dinner. Kurt loved how spontaneous Blaine was with where he drove him, sometimes taking him home and serving him a scrumptious dinner, or inviting Kurt to cook with him, or bringing him to a nice restaurant where the two of them talked about anything. After dinner, they usually lounged on the couch together, typing on their laptops, before getting ready for bed. Both of them had patient personalities, and were quiet around the house, so they got along very well in the same place.

Even though his life couldn't have been easier, Kurt was still happy to see Blaine approach him about taking a weekend trip to Lima, to see his parents. Blaine and Kurt couldn't afford to take a proper vacation, but with all of the places that Blaine had taken him around New York, and with this weekend trip coming up, Kurt felt like he'd been on ten vacations. "Really?" Kurt chirped, after Blaine handed him the paper he'd scribbled on, showing approximately how much the trip would cost, and how they could work it in. Blaine nodded, glad to see the smile on Kurt's face, and grunted as Kurt lunged into his arms, hugging him fiercely.

After getting the time off from Schuester, who had softened up like butter toward them when Kurt got another article on the front page, and Blaine was recognized and given an award for one of his, they'd spent Thursday night packing, and left for the airport Friday morning. Within two hours, they were boarded onto their plane, Kurt sitting in the window seat, while Blaine sat just beside of him, his legs stretched out and a map of Lima in his lap. "What's in Lima?" Blaine asked, as he tried to get himself acquainted with the two nicer restaurants that were in the town.

"Farm fields. Cows. Grass." Kurt informed him, and when Blaine glanced up at him, he shrugged, "I'm not pulling your leg. That's actually what's in Lima. When I told you that I grew up in a small town, I wasn't kidding." Taking Blaine's map from him, Kurt traced his finger over it, and then stopped in the general area of his house. "I live right around here. Over there is my high school. This area has some restaurants… none of them are good. One of them is a greasy sports bar, and the rest are fast food. All of this…" he waved his hand over a large portion of the map, "is fields." Obviously put off by what he'd learned, Blaine gaped at the map, and Kurt nudged him with his elbow. "Blaine, where did you grow up? You've told me about your family, but nothing about where you're from. I can't place your accent."

"Oh." Blaine took a sip of the drink he'd ordered. "I was born in California, near the shore. After I left California, I went to Arizona for a few years. After that, I lived in Washington for less than a year. Now, I'm in New York. I try to stay in areas with dense populations, so I can help more people."

"But… you're not going to stay in New York, are you? Not permanently?"

Blaine shook his head, "No, not permanently. When I have a family, I'll move to another state… or, at least, another city, that's safer. As soon as I get married and have children, my family will come first." His eyes flitted back up to Kurt, "But I guess it depends on you, too. What are you going to do, Kurt? Because I'm not going anywhere if you're not."

Kurt shrugged, "I don't know… I guess I've been thinking the same way. New York isn't a permanent thing for me. I wanted to attend college there, and get the experience of having lived there. But… I don't want to stay there, especially when I have children." Realizing that his plans had almost perfectly aligned with Blaine's, Kurt flushed, and returned his attention to the plane, which had started backing up. "Have you ever been on a plane, Blaine? I mean… you don't have to be on one, do you?"

Blaine looked out the window, "No, I've never been on one. Every time I've moved to a different state, I've sold off my belongings and started fresh. It's easier to take nothing with me when I'm flying on my own. But, I doubted you would want me to carry you across the country."

Kurt turned green at the idea. Laughing, Blaine pulled Kurt's head against his chest, which Kurt burrowed into, breathing his heady cologne. Suddenly, Kurt dragged his eyes up to Blaine's chin, and he ran his fingers over the engrained stubble. "Do you want to do something to pass the time? My dad and I used to do this during car rides. I was a fussy child, and he'd do just about anything to keep me from throwing a tantrum."

"I can believe that." Blaine snorted when Kurt smacked his arm, "And what is it you propose we do?"

"Okay, so… we have to ask each other questions. And I want to start."

"Isn't that what dates are for? Is this your way of telling me that I need to take you on more dates?" Despite the curve to his lips, there was a flicker of uncertainty in Blaine's eyes, as if he actually thought that he still wasn't spending enough time with Kurt, or asking the right questions.

"No… you're a good boyfriend, Blaine." Shimmying deeper into Blaine's chest, Kurt traced his fingers over the veins in Blaine's hands, which had wound around his slender arms. "Why don't we have a date on a plane?" Finally, Blaine settled back into his seat, his lips touching Kurt's hair, so Kurt said softly, "My first question is… what's the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you?"

Blaine's body shuddered with his snickers, "Do I have to pick just one? Well, when I was younger, it was my clumsiness that always got me in trouble. With my powers, I had even less control of my body. That was always a problem for me. But… I've probably never felt more embarrassed than when I met you. I knew that someone else worked in our office… but, when you walked in, I lost my words. I thought that you were stunning. You made me so flustered that I didn't know what I was saying. I remember… I was mean to you. I wanted you to stay away, so that you wouldn't have to… deal with me, if, by any chance, you developed feelings for me." When Kurt glimpsed up at Blaine's face, he saw that it had turned cold. He stroked the back of his hand, opening his mouth to tell him that he didn't regret getting close to him, when Blaine cleared his throat. "But… what's the embarrassing thing that's happened to you?"

Kurt smiled cheekily, "Nothing embarrassing ever happens to me. And you can't ask me the same question. That's cheating!"

Blaine rolled his eyes, "Fine, fine. I think you're coming up with these rules on the spot. Let me think." Pressing a few kisses to the crown of Kurt's head, he finally said lowly, "Tell me where you see yourself… I don't know, two years from now."

"Two years?" He squinted, "Hm… two years from now, I think I'd want to be married to a nice, successful man. I would still be a fashion journalist. We'd live in a cute, little house with a garden. And… we'd be adopting our first child. My second question for you… Where have you always wanted to get married, Blaine? You're the kind of guy to be difficult about his wedding, aren't you? You'd want to get married on a cruise… with doves released behind you when you said your vows."

Blaine threw his head back, "Not quite, even though I wouldn't be opposed to a cruise. I need the week of relaxation. And I wouldn't take you with me. You're not calm at all."

Kurt narrowed his eyes at Blaine, "I wouldn't want to go on your silly cruise, anyway! They're boring. And do you know what all of that salt and water would do to my skin?"

"My point exactly." Blaine smirked at Kurt, who pointed his nose upward and crossed his arms over his chest. Bundling Kurt closer to him, he lowered his voice, "I don't know where I'd want to get married, baby. I think I'd be so happy to just be getting a husband that I'd let him plan everything. I've never been much of a party organizer, anyway. I've always been the creepy guy that lurks in corners… at least, at the very few parties I've gone to." Kurt giggled at that, imagining how awkward his introverted and bookish boyfriend would look in the middle of a party. "Okay, my next question for you is… if you had children, what would you name them?"

Kurt suddenly clapped his hands, "I've thought about this one! If I had a baby girl, I would name her after my mom, Elizabeth. Close friends called my mom Ellie, but I would call my daughter Lizzie. I would name a boy Alfredo."

Blaine's brows shot up, " _Alfredo?_ "

"I like Italian food! But I would call him Alfie." Kurt smacked his hands to his cheeks, "How do you like Fettuccine?"

Sliding his fingers under Kurt's chin, he tipped his head back, "I like Alfie." He kissed Kurt's mouth, "You still have to ask me a question."

Kurt's lashes batted as Blaine lowered his face, the tips of their noses bumping. He could smell Blaine's minty breath, and see the lightest sprinkling of freckles across his nose. Sparked by a moment of bravery, Kurt cupped Blaine's face, a smile stretching across his pink lips as Blaine nuzzled closer to him, sealing his lips over the tip of Kurt's nose. Like a curious child exploring his new world, Kurt reached up for Blaine's hair and toyed with his locks. "Blaine… have you ever been in love… with anyone at all?"

He didn't know why that question had any importance to him. It was just setting him up for failure, whether Blaine said that he'd never been in love, or had loved one of his ex-boyfriends. It wasn't like he wanted Blaine's love, anyway, since Kurt hadn't fallen that hard for him, anyway. But then Blaine lowered his mouth to Kurt's, his hand closing around the back of his head, and he whispered, "I think so."

And it all came so clear to Kurt, like flying above the clouds, where the sky seemed so empty, but was actually squished between everything and oblivion. But Kurt couldn't say that back to Blaine, because he was the only man Kurt had been with romantically, and Blaine would know whom he was referring to. Snuggling his head against Blaine's collarbone, Kurt wondered when he would be able to tell Blaine. His dad had once told him that he would know when it would be the right time to express his feelings for the man he knew was meant for him, and Kurt hoped that moment came sooner, rather than later.


	8. Yours

Kurt stepped out of the rented car with his boyfriend, who went around to the back to gather their luggage. They had packed lightly—Blaine using up half of one of Kurt's bags, and Kurt with two bags, because he had to bring his facial creams and two extra outfits. Carrying Pavarotti's pillar-shaped cage, Kurt wiggled his finger at the bird, who was pacing from side to side and sniffing around his new surroundings.

When Blaine walked over to him and placed a hand at his waist, Kurt chortled at his expression, which he knew couldn't have been an amused one behind his sunglasses. "Do you like Ohio yet?" He playfully elbowed his boyfriend, who had never been an area with less than ten skyscrapers. "Hey, we have _great_ corn out here!"

A smile cracked onto Blaine's lips, and he peeled the glasses off of his face. "This is… different. It's very open out here. And it smells clean." Furrowing his brows, he turned a glare toward Kurt. "And I don't even like corn."

Kurt rolled his eyes, leading his boyfriend up to his small and modest home, which was about the size of two of their apartment back in New York. "Who doesn't like corn? You are the pickiest man I have ever met." Threading a funny tone through his voice, Kurt mocked Blaine, "No, there's too much gravy on the potatoes. The silverware goes on the right side of the plate—"

Frowning, Blaine swung his free arm around Kurt and tickled his ribs, and then bent and kissed his giggling mouth. "At least I can eat a piece of pizza without complaining about my hips. Hush, you little brat. You know that there's no better company for you at the dinner table than me. Besides, you feed me hot meals. Before I met you, I ate everything out of the microwave. The only reason I keep you around is because of your cooking skills."

Giving Blaine a look that made him peck his mouth a few more times in apology, Kurt laughed and brought him up to the doorway. "The only reason I keep you around is because the face you make when you see my dad is so funny. You're a good source of entertainment." He knocked a few times on the door, and then pointed a finger at Blaine. "Do you remember what we talked about? You're supposed to make my dad like you. Blaine, we've been dating for months. Our relationship isn't like how it was before. And I can't choose between my dad and you. You hardheaded men have to be able to stand to be in the same room with each other."

"I know, honey." Blaine made his face serious, his eyes clearing of emotion and his lips becoming firm. "And I already have a plan. I'll talk to your dad after dinner… just the two of us. I need to talk to him, anyway." When Kurt raised a brow, he shook his head. "It's nothing you need to worry about." He kissed Kurt, "I'll make things right, baby. I promise."

All at once, the door was pried open, and on the other side stood Carole. Because Kurt had informed his parents of their plan to visit about a week ago, Carole had spent the last week preparing for them, even though Kurt had begged her not to go to the trouble. The house, as he expected it would, smelled like cookies, with the faint hint of oil and grease that Finn and Burt must have tracked in from the garage. Kurt was instantly hit with the feeling that he was in the right place, and was home again. He breathed out in relief, and collapsed into his stepmom's arms. "Carole! I've missed you!"

It'd been about six months since Kurt had come home, so he instantly explored the living room with his eyes, and found everything just as it should be. His dad's recliner was propped just in front of the TV, where it always had been, and an empty pop can sat beside of it. Kurt gave his stepmom a look that she instantly understood. Pressing his hands between her soft, thick ones, she murmured, "Oh, Kurt, you look wonderful. And don't worry about your dad. He doesn't drink pop often. He and Finn are in the garage right now. I don't want him to strain himself out there, but it's good for him to get on his feet every now and then."

Twisting toward Blaine, who had set the suitcases in the entryway, she cooed and held up her arms to embrace him, "Blaine, dear, it's so good to see you again. You two make such a handsome couple. How are things back in New York?"

"Everything's great, Carole." Kurt said kindly, scooting Pavarotti's cage onto one of the tables and helping the bird out of it so he could have some space. "Blaine and I are very happy. It's nice to have him moved in to my apartment." Turning toward his boyfriend, Kurt pointed in the direction of the kitchen, "Blaine, the kitchen is open. You have to go through it to get to the garage. My parents' bedroom is down that hallway. And Finn and I used to share the basement, but Finn has his own place now."

Blaine smiled at Carole, "Thanks for being so hospitable, Carole."

Appreciatively clicking her tongue, Carole waved them farther in, "Please, make yourselves at home. I'll get the boys." She whirled away from them and walked into the kitchen, where she had soup simmering on the stovetop, and a batch of cookies cooling on the counter.

Kurt lowered onto the arm of a couch, holding Pavarotti in front of him as the tiny bird spun in every direction, before chirping up at Blaine. Blaine scratched the top of his head, and then bowed his head to kiss the tip of Kurt's nose. Kurt grinned at the affection that he lavished openly onto him, as of recently. "My stepmom really likes you. Carole's easy to warm up to. She's a lot like my mom was." Raising his brows at Blaine, he asked, "Do you want to see a picture of her, Blaine?"

He climbed back off of the couch and walked over to the fireplace, where there had always sat a small picture frame that had his mom within. He brought it over to Blaine and showed him his mom, who his dad had caught gardening, and had whipped her head over her shoulder, her blue eyes gleaming with happiness, and her pink lips turned upward. Blaine's eyes softened at the picture, "She was beautiful. She looked just like you."

"Thank you." Kurt returned the frame to its rightful spot. "My dad loved her so much. He always wondered how he got so lucky. My mom never took anything very seriously. She used to tell me that it was better to appreciate the good, than dwell on the bad. Even after she had been in the hospital for months with cancer, she still laid me down with her and stroked my hair, and would sing to me, until she fell asleep." His eyes became misty, and he quickly rubbed at the corners. "I was in her arms when she took her last breath. My dad was leaning over us, holding her hand. When she died, he looked up at me and kissed my forehead. He told me not to cry, because she wouldn't want that, and to smile because we had all of these amazing memories with her. So, I didn't cry on the day that she died."

Blaine's lips wavered, and he rubbed his forehead against Kurt's. He looked like he was about to say something, his lips parting, when the garage door slammed. Carole was herding the boys inside, her hands on either of their waists, as she tried to interrupt the way that they jabbed at each other's ribs and bickered about a recent football game. Kurt grinned at his dad, who he had once been jealous for when Finn had first come around, but was now happy to see him so close with, because he knew that Finn was just what he needed. Spreading his arms, Kurt walked to him and wrapped himself around his dad's chest, breathing in his familiar scent. "Hi, Dad."

Burt instantly forgot what he'd been telling Finn as his arms crushed his son, "Kurt, it's so good to have you home, bud." He lifted his chin and nodded at Blaine, who Finn had walked over to and was greeting. "Blaine."

Blaine returned the older man's nod, "Mr. Hummel, thank you for having me." Having overheard part of Finn and Burt's conversation, Blaine hesitantly put in. "You watch football?"

Burt's eyebrows shot up, and Kurt's stomach did a flip as he realized that Blaine was putting in the effort to bond. He stepped back, feeling Carole's hand slide around his hips. "Yeah, Finn and I are big fans. Do you watch it?"

"When I can." Blaine said sheepishly. "My dad used to let me watch it with him. It was one of the only things we did together."

Burt looked intrigued, and he turned to his wife, who waved him off. "There's a game on now. How about you sit down with us and watch it?"

Blaine also looked at his significant other, who made the same motion that Carole did. Kissing Kurt's forehead, he looked back up at Burt, a smile twitching on his lips. "I'd love to."

Once the three of them were out of the way, Kurt peered around the corner of the main room, where Finn and Blaine took up separate ends of a couch, and his dad occupied his recliner. Without a hitch, he and Finn got back into their argument, with Blaine making the occasional comment. When he felt Carole touch his back, Kurt glanced over his shoulder. "Come on, honey. Why don't you help me with dinner? Pavarotti can eat the scraps, just like he used to."

Kurt shuffled away from the living room, and didn't speak until he was safely contained within the kitchen. "I was starting to worry that Blaine and Dad would never find any common ground." He walked up to the counter with her, and peeked into the pot of reddish, bubbling soup. "Mm… minestrone? You know the way to my heart, Carole."

Carole laughed, and handed him a loaf of bread. "Why don't you cut this up? Dinner's just about ready." At the sound of an especially loud laugh from Finn, she flicked her eyes over her shoulder. "Well, sweetheart… you and Blaine have been dating for…"

"Four months."

"Four months… goodness. And you're moved in together. Things are getting pretty serious, huh?"

Kurt shrugged, sliding the bread onto a cutting board and swiping a knife from where it had been sheathed. "I don't know, Carole… I hope so. You know, Blaine's turning thirty five in just a few days. I'm only twenty two. I could wait another ten years before I married. But Blaine wants to settle down. We've been talking, I guess, in very subtle terms. Because he's older, we both know that, whenever we want to, it could be time for us to stop dating. It isn't like I'm dating someone as young as I am, when dating is just dating. We've talked about marriage and children. And we've talked about moving out of New York City. But if someone's going to make the first move to take our relationship to a different stage, it's going to have to be him, and he knows that. It's just a matter of… when."

Carole's eyes became sympathetic, and she rubbed the back of his hand. "And… have you both said how you feel? Do you… know how you feel?"

Smiling, Kurt shook his head, "No… neither of us has admitted anything. We're both cautious people, to a fault. We don't like putting ourselves out there. But, if he doesn't tell me soon enough, then I'll tell him." He glimpsed up at his stepmom, who had stopped stirring and was leaning against the counter, attention fixated on him. "I do love him, Carole, very much. He's everything to me. I don't know what I would do without Blaine."

With her eyes watering, Carole rubbed a finger over his tense cheek, and his dimple popped under the pad of her thumb as he gave her a kind look. "You've always been so disconnected from everyone. I was so afraid that you would never let anyone in. Do what your heart says it right. Kurt, your mom would be so proud of you. I know that your dad and I are. Your mom would like Blaine."

Kurt took a deep, shaky breath, "I wish she was here." Clasping Carole's hand, he squeezed it firmly, and then turned back to the bread, chopping very precisely. He smiled to himself again, and then suddenly became aware of movement behind him. He turned around to spy Blaine, who was guiding his dad through the front door. Quirking a brow, he questioned, "Blaine?"

"We'll be right out here, beautiful." He shut the door behind himself, and Kurt spun back around to Carole, who simply shrugged her shoulders, and went back to tossing the salad in vinaigrette dressing. Rolling his eyes, Kurt also returned to his menial task, as he wished that he had Blaine's supersonic hearing.

* * *

Later that night, Kurt curled up on his bed by himself, laying himself down on his stomach as his eyes gazed blankly out the window. The stars reflected on the glassy surface of the blue, which became more covered as his lids lowered sleepily. It was early for him to retire, but the wear of the plane had him shuffling like a zombie by nine. His boyfriend and dad had left again after dinner, Blaine taking him out on a special request—whether to talk more, or for something else, Kurt wasn't sure.

Stretching out his muscles, Kurt started to wrap his arms around the bubble of fluff under his head, when the bedroom door cracked open. He flipped his head to the other side, watching Blaine's shadow climb down the stairs, his footsteps light and careful, as if Blaine was making sure that he wasn't too loud in case Kurt was asleep. Suddenly, Blaine called, "Kurt, baby, are you up?"

Kurt mewled softly at his boyfriend, whose head finally appeared, his curls frizzy and his mouth taut. His face relaxed into a gentle expression at the sight of Kurt, as he started to unbutton his shirt. He only did the first two buttons, before he paused and crept over to Kurt, whose eyes flitted from his tired face to the patch of chest hair that snuck out of the collar of his shirt. "Hi." Kurt whispered, flipping himself over and reaching up to help Blaine with his clothes. "Come to bed and snuggle with me. What have you been doing with my dad?"

"Going to every store in Lima." Blaine huffed, sitting down on the edge of the bed and stopping Kurt from grabbing at his clothes. "Sweetheart, look at me. Kurt, there's something I need to ask you." He cupped his hand over Kurt's, and flipped it over, sliding their fingers together. Suddenly, Blaine scooted off of the edge of the bed, and lowered onto one knee. Before he spoke, he played with a tendril of Kurt's hair, as Kurt's eyes welled up. "Kurt… honey… I love you, more than anything in the entire world. I want to be with you… be bound to you. I want to move with you to that little house with a garden, and start a family with you. I think that you're beautiful and selfless. You're kind, and you make me laugh. When I wake up, I love seeing you lying on my chest, with your arms wrapped around me. If you asked me to, I would give up being a super man entirely, if you wanted me at home with you, looking after our family… caring for you. It would be a privilege to be the man you chose to be with you, during all of your weak moments, your sicknesses, your hurts. Kurt, if you'd have me, it would be an honor to be your husband. Will you marry me?"

Before Kurt could answer, Blaine dug around in his back pocket, and he pulled out two tiny wedding toppers. Both of them were men in tuxedos, one with light brown hair, and the other with hair as black as the night. He laid them in Kurt's lap. "I remember you telling me that the man who used to bully you stole your only dolls. They were wedding figures. This is what I was doing with your dad. I promise to make you as happy as these dolls look. I wouldn't even take you on a cruise for our wedding."

Despite how internally wrecked he felt, Kurt still managed to splutter a giggle. He threw himself into Blaine's chest, shaking with emotion. "Yes… I would love to be your husband. I love you, Blaine."

Blaine moved away from Kurt, clasping his slender, trembling hand. He pushed a golden ring onto his finger, letting Kurt admire it, and the round, blossomed roses that bordered the outside of the band. When Blaine spoke, his voice sounded nasally, and he wiped at his teary eyes. "Gold, to match the color of your heart." Bringing himself back onto the bed, Blaine hooked his arms around Kurt and toppled with him to the bed, laughing when Kurt squealed beneath him. "I love you, Kurt, with all of my heart."

Opening his glittering eyes, Kurt stared up at the tanned face of his fiancé. He felt, in that moment, lighter than a cloud, like he himself could fly.

* * *

A few days after that, a plane carried them back to New York City, where Kurt instantly started to make preparations for Blaine's birthday, as well as their imminent future. Since their engagement, Kurt had started work on clicking through sites that hosted wedding venues, and with the help of Blaine, they'd picked out a few things, and then agreed to hold off on the rest, so that they didn't overwhelm themselves. To keep Kurt's head focused on the present, Blaine had even signed him up for a wedding website, which gave him a calendar of when he had to get things done.

Feeling pleased with the progression of his life, Kurt hummed happily to himself, stirring the bubbly, moist batter of Blaine's pumpkin-spice birthday cake. He was going to top it with nuts, so he'd set a platter of a few almonds aside for Pavarotti, who was his companion as he cooked up Blaine's birthday dinner. While they had celebrated with Unique at the office and had ice cream for the three of them, Kurt had decided that he wanted some alone time with his fiancé on his birthday.

While he waited for Blaine to get home from his last mission to a bank that had been broken into, Kurt stuck the cake into the oven, and then checked on his sizzling vegetables. By the smell of them, Kurt considered them done, and forked them out onto two separate plates, and paired the main dish with loaves of bread. As if Kurt's hope that he would get home on time for the food to still be warm had cued him, the apartment door suddenly opened, and Kurt picked up the plates. He carried them over to the kitchen table, and then glanced into the living room, where his fiancé was turned away from him and shuffling through a pile of papers. "Blaine—" Kurt called softly, but quickly clamped his lips shut when Blaine spoke gruffly.

"Of course. I can come in fifteen minutes. Thank you for the call." He clicked his phone off, and picked up the papers that he needed. When he turned around, Kurt gave him a bright smile, and held his arms up.

"Happy birthday, my love! It's not much, but I wanted to make you a nice dinner for your—" He furrowed his brows when Blaine hurried over to him and kissed his cheek, and then started flicking through his phone as he turned away again. "Blaine… are you listening? I made dinner. What are you rushing around for?"

As if he hadn't even been aware of Kurt's presence, Blaine snapped his head up, eyes huge. "Oh… I'm sorry, honey. I have to go out again. I have an interview." Stomping out of the room, he went back into their bedroom, so Kurt, slightly put off, hesitantly followed him. He found Blaine rifling through their closet for a button up and a pair of slacks.

Kurt rested his hands in front of him, folding his palms against each other, "An interview? Why do you have an interview?"

Blaine distractedly flew by him again, "I applied for a job this morning. They've already called me back. I have to be over there in fifteen minutes. Can we talk about this when I get back?" All at once, something dawned on Blaine, and he spun back to Kurt, whose spine had stiffened and bottom lip was puckered. "Honey… you made a birthday dinner for me. Kurt, I'm sorry. I completely forgot that it was my birthday. I got caught up in what I was doing at the bank. I can call the company back and tell them to reschedule the interview—"

He crossed his arms over his chest, "You didn't tell me you applied for a job. What about your job at the newspaper?"

"I'll be working two jobs. Kurt, if we have a family, I can't provide for you and a few children off of our salaries as journalists. I had to do something extra, and I didn't want you to have to be the one to take the second job. I'd be working an evening and nightshift at a forensic science lab—"

Kurt pulled slightly away from Blaine, "You'd be working in crime? Going to the crime scenes and studying the evidence? Blaine, I thought we talked about this! I told you that if you keep working with crime the way that you used to, I'd never get to see you. You're my fiancé, and one day you'll be my husband. And what about our children? Blaine, I don't want to be a single parent—!"

Blaine shook his head, "I've got to go, Kurt. Let's talk about this later." Before he left, Blaine grabbed him around his waist and kissed his unresponsive lips. And then he was gone, leaving Kurt to stand on a pair of wobbly legs, alone in the apartment. Flinching as the apartment door clicked shut, Kurt released an unattractive sob, his hand swinging out to grab the bag of trinkets that he had bought Blaine. He slapped the objects to the ground, and then collapsed to his knees. His arms looped around his center, and he wept with abandon, fearing that this would be what forever was like.

* * *

Weeks later, Kurt jerked out of his sleep from the sound of shoes padding around on the floor. He whipped his head from side to side, before he realized that Blaine had finally come home, a few hours after midnight. Despite how exhausted he was, Kurt still felt like pieces of his heart had been shaved off, and then splattered on the walls. He sat up, waiting for his fiancé to return to the bedroom, where he would promptly explain himself. Finally, Blaine snuck into the bedroom on his toes, his head briefly turning, and his face freezing on Kurt's downwardly curved lips. Trying to keep his heightened emotions down, Kurt whispered shakily, "You weren't supposed to work tonight. And you've never been home this late."

Blaine shook his head helplessly, as he reached for his mask. "I'm sorry, honey. The case that I'm working on is more involved than I first thought it was. And my boss wants it to be completed by the end of the week. And now I have to go across town because there was a gas leak that caught fire at a restaurant—"

"Is everyone out of the building safely?"

He paused at that last, and it was that second that made tears spill from Kurt's eyes. "Blaine, you're going back to the way you were before! Why couldn't a gas company handle this? It's two in the morning! I can't… I can't… deal with this anymore! What about everything you said during your proposal? You promised to be there for me! And you're not!" When Blaine set his mask down and slowly approached the bed, Kurt held up his hands. "No, don't come near me. Just go, if you'd rather be saving people who don't need saved." He said this last mainly because he didn't want Blaine to know that he'd stripped himself naked before climbing into bed, having hoped that his fiancé would be home with him that night, and would be able to give him the attention that he craved.

It almost crushed Kurt when Blaine took a few steps back. He started to twist away, but, as he faced the wall, he said lowly, "Blaine… I've been asked to read one of my articles at a convention at Vogue. Schuester told me that they would be willing to pay me if I would promote their merchandise in my articles. The reading is this weekend. You'll be there, won't you?"

"You didn't tell me about this."

Kurt's voice was strangled, "You haven't been here to hear me say it. Almost everyone in the office has congratulated me, except for my own fiancé."

It took Blaine several seconds, but he chose not to respond to that, because he knew that Kurt was right. "Of course I'll be there. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

* * *

Kurt stood in the middle of his dressing room, where he had been pinched into a tight blouse and a pair of white slacks that Vogue had put together for him. As an assistant brushed powder onto his cheeks and nose, he gazed at himself in the mirror, reviewing how he was going to greet his audience. He couldn't come off as nervous, or else no one would take him seriously. He had to be friendly and confident, as if he were carrying on a conversation with someone he was close to. His mind flashed back to Blaine, who, according to Unique and Rodney—who had both arrived twenty minutes ago to raid the snacks and take their reserved seats next to Blaine's—hadn't gotten there yet, and was probably just late.

Before Kurt could worry himself, a man poked his head into the room, "Mr. Hummel, you'll go onstage in five minutes."

"Thank you." Kurt said softly, stepping away from the assistant and also thanking her for her work. Sipping a cup of water, he slumped onto one of the couch cushions and rested his head in his hand. He wondered if Blaine had arrived since he'd spoken to Unique.

Time dragged on so slowly that five minutes felt like thirty to Kurt, who snapped his head up when the man returned and waved him out of the room. He picked up his article and followed the man onto the area to the side of the stage, where the host of the convention was standing and introducing him to the audience. All at once, a light flashed in his eyes, and the man motioned him onto the stage. The woman spun to face him and plastered a smile onto her plump face, her teeth shining like the moon. "Ladies and gentlemen, the accomplished Kurt Hummel, with his article on the benefits of owning faux animal products." As if she had been let in on a secret that no one else knew, the host laughed delightedly, "I've heard that this article was inspired by Kurt's feathered friend, Pavarotti."

Smiling at the woman, Kurt reached the microphone and stood in front of it, finally facing the audience. His eyes did a quick sweep of the room, and he picked out Unique and Rodney. Unique winked at him, but then his face became solemn as he checked on Blaine's empty seat. Kurt tried to keep down his ping of disappointment. He uncomfortably cleared his throat, his cheeks turning bright red as he realized that his hesitation had caused an uncomfortable pause. "Um… thank you for having me here tonight. It was an honor to be noticed." He gestured toward the host, "And thanks for that very nice introduction. Before I begin, I would like to acknowledge the amazing manager of Dalton, Mr. Schuester, who was the one who put this together. And… one of my very good friends, Unique Adams, who has been my rock for all of the years that I've known him. A-And my fiancé, Blaine Anderson, who unfortunately couldn't come here tonight."

* * *

After the reading, Kurt was swept into a crowd of people who questioned him thoroughly on his article. Most of them had once totted an item made from the product of an animal, but after hearing what he had to say, were going to give up what they owned and start fresh with faux fur or leather. They asked if he had always been opposed to animal product, or if the adoption of his bird was what sparked his interested in advocating the cause. They even inquired about his diet, each of them prepared to call him a hypocrite if he wouldn't wear animals, but would eat them. Finally, a familiar hand grabbed his shoulder and tugged him away from the clicking cameras and autograph books.

When they reached a break in the hordes of people, Kurt breathed out heavily, fanning his sticky face. " _Finally._ I've been waiting to be rescued for a half hour now—" He turned toward Unique, whose face had drained of color, and lips were slightly parted. Kurt instantly swallowed a lump of emotion. "Unique… what is it?"

Unique covered his mouth, his eyes leaking, "Kurt… it's Blaine. He was shot. The bullet went through his neck. He's being held at a hospital about two miles from here—"

Kurt was out of his sight before Unique finished his sentence. Elbowing through the crowd of people, he ignored the questions they flung at him, completely oblivious to the panic he was spiraling into. He suddenly didn't care if his deal with Vogue fell through. All that was important to him was getting to his fiancé. He burst out of the nearest exit of the building, feeling his face become icky as tears rattled out of him and the cold seeped into his sweaty skin. He was so afraid that running there might not get him there in time. Abruptly, he whipped around when someone snatched his wrist. Unique pulled him across the parking lot, yelling for Rodney to unlock the doors of his truck.

As soon as Rodney clicked a button on his keys, Unique ripped open a door and pushed Kurt inside. He threw himself beside of him, and pressed a hand to Kurt's shoulder, "Kurt, what about his powers? Will they help him heal?"

Kurt was breathing so heavily that he could barely get the words out, every sound ragged and a hurtle to push out of his constricted throat. "I-I don't know. He's never been shot before. Please, Rodney, drive faster! Unique, the last thing he said to me was that he loved me. I didn't say it back because I was upset with him. He's been gone so much, and I—"

Unique held onto his shaking shoulders for the entire ride to the hospital, which seemed to go on for hours. When they pulled up in the parking lot, Kurt opened the door and flung himself out before Rodney stopped the car. He hurried up to the sliding doors and almost slammed himself into the desk, startling the woman that was typing at the computer. "Which room is Blaine Anderson in—?"

"I'm right here, Kurt." A deep voice said from behind him, and Kurt wheeled around, huge eyes flicking over Blaine's form. Although he looked dusty, he seemed unharmed, not a speck of blood on his body. Blaine looked as confused as he did, his eyes searching him. "Sweetheart, have you been crying?"

" _Yes._ " Kurt stumbled over to Blaine and draped himself over his chest, "Blaine, Unique told me that you were badly hurt! He said that you had been shot through your neck. I was scared—"

Blaine lowered his voice, so that no one else overheard. "I was shot. But I pulled the bullet out before the ambulance even arrived. It's already healed. Baby, I thought you knew that I could heal myself."

"I-I did! But not for… not for bullet holes! Why are you being so flippant about this? I left my reading so I could come see if you were okay! I wasn't even sure if you were going to live!"

At something Kurt said, Blaine's eyes became huge. "Damn… That was tonight. Kurt… I'm sorry. I forgot. I got preoccupied at the crime scene. We apprehended the criminal tonight—"

Suddenly, Kurt swung his hand back, and smacked it against Blaine's cheek, shutting him up. As tears spilled down Kurt's cheeks, he whispered through a thick voice, "I don't care about the criminal, Blaine. And, frankly, I'm done caring about you, if you're not going to care about yourself." A bubble of saliva popped between Kurt's lips as he bowed his head, crying openly into his palms. "You can't keep doing t-this, Blaine. You were _shot_ tonight. Is it wrong for me to want something normal? You didn't even come to my reading, like anyone else's fiancé would. I-I think it's time for me… to leave New York City. I'm tired of living in the middle of crime. I want a safe life, with a husband that would do anything to make me happy. I want to have children with you. But if you keep this up, we'll never get anywhere. Blaine, I'm going to move, and if you want to be with me, you'll come, too. But I'm not going to stay here. I'm going to ask for a loan from my parents, and start looking for that little house with a garden that we talked about. I'm going to make things work, with or without you. But I can't live like this anymore." He stretched on his toes and kissed Blaine's dry mouth, "I love you, Blaine, but I don't love what you do."


	9. Million Dollar Man

Author's note: Hello, everyone! So, I know that, a few chapters ago, I said this would be 25-30 chapters. I had a bunch of material that I was thinking about using, but after playing around with the ideas, I decided to make this story much more fast-paced, so that the scenes didn't drag on, and you guys wouldn't get bored of the problem. So, this will be the last chapter for the story. I've included all of the scenes that I thought were important, but I cut a lot of them out. I hope you like the way that this is ending. If you're interested in my work, I am currently working on a crime/spy story called Nightingale. Although it's a crossover with Charlie's Angels, the characters from that movie won't be included, and the story will only have themes from the movie. I also have a four book series, which starts with Out, about bully!straight!Blaine, with the antagonist being Karofsky. I appreciate all of the support this has been given, and I hope to see you guys on my other stories!

the-power-of-love: Thank you so much for the review! I'm happy you're enjoying this!

* * *

Kurt wrapped another box in papery tape, smashing it down on both ends, when a sharp knock shook the door. "It's open!" He called, huffing as he boosted the box up and slid it onto another stack that was filled with kitchenware. All at once, Unique pounded into the room, and stopped in the doorway, his mouth gaping. Raising his head, Kurt frowned at Unique, knowing what he was thinking before he said it. "Unique, don't give me that look. You and I both know that this is necessary."

Unique's eyes flitted across the entire room, which had been emptied out over the past weekend. "I just… can't believe that this is actually happening. You're moving to another city—"

"Yes, but I'll only be a half hour away. I'll still be working at Dalton. It'll just be a longer drive to see you. Can you help me lift this box?" As soon as Unique approached him and moved the box, Kurt flung himself onto the nearest couch, and patted the spot beside of him. "I have coffee on. Thanks for coming. I needed a friend."

Blowing out heavily, Unique pulled Kurt's head onto his shoulder, "What's going on, honey? What's happening with you and Blaine?"

"I don't know." Kurt whispered shakily. "I wish that things were easier. I wish that he were here more often. That's why we need to move out of New York City. Blaine thinks that, because he has these powers, it's his duty to help everyone. His intentions are good, but, Unique, he's breaking my heart. He doesn't realize that I need saved. And he's so tired… but, until I get him to an area with less crime, he's never going to stop. And him being so stressed is stressing me out. When he's away, I'm scared for his life. When he's here, I'm scared that he'll leave. And with me moving, it's like I'm forcing him to give up what he's always known. What if he resents me? He has to take a different job… one that won't have him out in the middle of the night. I fear that it'll be an office job, and that he's going to hate it. He's already had to inform Schuester that all of his work will have to be done from his computer, so that he can write his articles at home, when he gets back from his day job. And I feel like a burden to my parents. I don't have the money to pay for a house, so I had to work out a loan with them."

"Oh, Kurt," was all Unique could sigh, his head shaking. "You know, I don't think Blaine understands how to be a fiancé… o-or a husband. No one's ever shown him how. Just think about it. He's been on his own since he was a little boy. All he ever saw was how distant his parents were from each other. No one ever taught him how to be in a good, healthy relationship. He doesn't even realize how he's hurting you. To him, he's just something extra to you. He doesn't know how necessary his presence is."

"I know he doesn't mean it." Kurt lowered his chin onto his knees, "But, Unique, it's killing me. I just want… I want a husband. I don't want to feel like I'm having an affair, feeling both nervous and anxious for the next time he comes for me. I don't know how to make him see that it's time for him to stop… it's time for him to devote himself to a family—" Suddenly, Kurt's phone buzzed against the coffee table, so he furrowed his brows, reaching out for it. He had set his phone to block any numbers from telemarketers, so, even though he didn't know the number that flashed on the screen, he still clicked the call on. Pressing the phone to his ear, he said patiently, "Hello?"

"Kurt?" A voice that he didn't recognize questioned. In the background, Kurt heard static, like plastic crinkling. He winced, pulling the phone slightly away from him. "It must be frustrating, being engaged to a super man."

Kurt's eyes widened to the size of saucers, and he almost dropped his phone. "Who is this?"

The voice on the other end smiled, "Just another super man. I can get rid of your problem. I have him right here. Blaine, why don't you say goodbye to your fiancé? You were never there for him, anyway. You were off fighting crime… being the good guy. I keep up on the news. If I had to pick a career, it'd probably be something in crime. But I'm not going to do that… because I stopped giving a shit about the people that did this to me." An uneven breath broke out of Kurt when something happened on the other end, and the glass-shattering scream of a man filtered through the phone.

"Blaine?" Kurt cried, but then the line clicked off. Squeezing the phone tighter, Kurt clicked through a few screens, but when he called the number back, he didn't get through. When Unique touched his arm, he whipped his head toward him and yelped, "Unique, grab my laptop! We have to track this number! Something's happened with Blaine."

Unique opened his laptop and tapped out the number that Kurt showed him, "Okay… the call came from the edge of the city. I know how to get there." For Unique's quick actions, and lack of questions, Kurt would always be grateful. Both of them launched off of the couch and headed for the door, and Kurt shut it behind them, barely remembering to lock it. As they ran down to the parking lot, Unique asked, "Who was that? Kurt, what do you think happened?"

"I don't know. But whoever it was, they knew about Blaine's powers." Kurt slammed through the glass doors in the lobby, and hurried to his car, where he stopped Unique from climbing inside. "Unique, you should stay behind. If this man could disarm Blaine, he's dangerous. You could get hurt—"

"And leave you to kick his ass by yourself?" Unique opened the passenger door, and set his foot inside. "I don't think so. Kurt, you're the size of a toothpick. You're going to need backup. I might just be a fashion journalist, but I grew up in New York City."

Pulling out of the parking lot, Kurt asked Unique which way he should turn, and Unique pointed out the directions to get there. They reached the border of New York City, where the land met water, and Unique nodded to the left, after he zoomed in on where the phone had been located. "It's in that old factory." Scrunching up his face, he stepped out of the car again, and stuck his hands on his hips. "That's so cliché. Why is the lair of every super villain located in an old, creepy factory?"

Kurt frowned at Unique, taking his hand as they headed toward the factory, which, according to a weathered sign, used to hold the raw oil that was pumped out of the ocean. White, chipped towers stood on either side of the rectangular, metal building. Crusty oil leaks bordered the ground, smelling rank, and turning into small flakes whenever their shoes accidentally pierced one of the puddles. "I wonder how we can get in."

Unique walked around to the other side of the building, "There had better be a door somewhere. This is not a spy movie. I am not climbing through any filthy windows." Finally coming across a door that was slightly ajar, he made an appreciative sound and grabbed it, flinging it open. They were hit with a gust of air that reeked like skunk, the hallway dim and dingy, and the air brisk on their bare skin. "It's so quiet in here. Where do you think Blaine is?"

"Let's follow the smell. It seems like it's coming from somewhere." Guiding Unique farther down the hallway, Kurt paused when they came to the end of it, and were faced with a large, open room where the odor was strongest. Covering their noses, they crept a few steps forward, looking around at all of the towering buckets of thin water, which had been mixed with a greenish tint, like the unclear water of a lake. There were gallons upon gallons of the liquid, and in the center, there sat a swimming pool of the water, with a crane swinging lazily over the deep, greenish liquid. "What is this?"

"I don't think that we can go swimming in it." Abruptly, Unique's head spun to the right, and he widened his eyes at a slab of wood that had been placed on top of a metal table. "Kurt!"

Looking in the direction that Unique was, Kurt let out a rough sound at the sight of his fiancé, whose limp form had been strapped onto the wood. "Blaine!" He scurried over to his fiancé, who was breathing heavily, wrists and ankles clamped under what looked like thick hooks that were made of some type of metal. His mouth had been stuffed with a gag. His skin looked blotchy, and had been soaked with perspiration. At the sight of Kurt, Blaine struggled against the clamps, but couldn't budge them. Kurt carefully took the cloth out of his mouth. "Blaine, what happened?"

Blaine spat a few times, and once he was done with his coughing fit, he pleaded with Kurt through a raspy voice, "Kurt, you have to get out of here! Leave me! Get to safety!"

Ignoring his desperation, Kurt twisted around to Unique, as he pried at the clamps. "Unique, help me with these! They're locked on tight!"

"They're made of solid kryptonite." Blaine put in quickly, as his eyes searched the room. "Kurt, all of this is kryptonite. He's been collecting it—"

"Who has?"

"Back away from him." Kurt whirled around at the sound of a scratchy voice, and his eyes met the plump, wrinkled face of the man who had bullied him during high school, and then had committed suicide. So alarmed that all he could do was back into Blaine, speechlessly reeling, Kurt kept his eyes on Karofsky as he paced over to them, eyes dark and hollow. "You look shocked to see me. Thought I hanged myself, huh? Well, I didn't." When Kurt grabbed one of Blaine's arms and leaned away, he curled up his lip, "I guess I should explain myself. Before either of you were born, I was changed into this…" Karofsky looked down at his hands, and he reached out and touched a nearby handle. Without giving a grunt of exertion, he twisted it until it was in the shape of a corkscrew. Kurt inhaled sharply, carefully watching all of that uncontrolled power. "A monster… with the strength to kill."

Karofsky's eyes flashed back up to their faces, "I was born in Ohio, but I moved out to New York City because I heard that it was easier to be gay out here. It wasn't. I was at a bar, and I asked a man to get a drink with me. You know what he did? He called his buddies over, and they carried me outside. They threw me into a lake. And do you know what that lake was filled with?" Kurt didn't answer him, and Karofsky snarled. "I was converted into _this._ And Blaine's probably never explained the effects of kryptonite to you fully, has he? It slows down aging. The heart stops pumping as quickly as it used to. We conserve much more energy than the average human does. And I looked young enough that I was still able to pass for a twenty year old. My dad's dying wish was for me to finish high school, despite my powers hindering me. So, I went back to Ohio and tried to finish my degree. Even though I knew my attention was supposed to be focused on my studies, I couldn't keep my mind off of those idiots that became obsessed with me, because I was big enough to play for their stupid football team. And I watched you, Kurt, because you didn't care what anyone thought of you. When my dad died, I lost my will to finish school, or even my life. I really did attempt suicide the first time. And that's when you came into my life. I realized that I was tired of people bullying us, Kurt. I didn't want to see the fire in your eyes go out. I returned to New York, and I drained the kryptonite out of the lake. And then I found a collection of it in the ocean. All of this kryptonite… I use it on people who don't like us, Kurt. I try to kill them with it."

Kurt took a deep, shaky breath, his hand clinging to his fiancé's shirt, "Then, why did you try to kill Blaine? He was just a child. He didn't even know what sexuality meant."

"Yes, but I knew that his dad was a politician who had made homophobic remarks. When he offered Blaine, I simply took him because I thought it would make him distraught to see his youngest son die. It was my mistake when Blaine lived through the conversion." Karofsky shook his head. "I really did love you, Kurt. And now that we're together again, maybe I can change you. I'll never be able to be a human, but you can be like me."

Kurt flicked his eyes up to the crane, his stomach plummeting as he realized what Karofsky meant to do. He shook his head, "No. I won't do it. You're crazy."

"If you don't get into this kryptonite…" Karofsky took a few steps closer to him. Unique started to put an arm around Kurt, but Kurt shrugged him off, knowing that Unique would never be able to overpower him. "Blaine will go into the kryptonite, and there will be no chance of survival for him."

"And if I don't survive?"

Karofsky smiled sadly, "At least I'll know that I tried." Snatching Kurt's wrist, he dragged him closer to himself, and bent his head, nuzzling at Kurt's neck. Kurt kept his face stoic, doing his best not to cringe. When Karofsky turned away, Kurt glimpsed over his shoulder at Blaine, who was straining against the clamps. His muscles seized up, and the edges of the bands cut into his wrists. Unique was frantically searching the table for a button, but was coming up with nothing.

As Karofsky pushed Kurt over to a ladder, Blaine roared, "Let him go! Kill me instead!" Throwing himself upward, Blaine yanked at the bands, which were still unbending. "Karofsky! He's not going to survive! Please!" Kurt continued up the ladder, hearing his fiancé's voice become breathier, as his panic increased, "Karofsky, please! I love him! Kurt, get down from there! Let me die instead!"

Kurt closed his eyes as Karofsky jerked his hands behind him, winding them in tape that wasn't as strong as what Blaine was bound in. Counting to ten in his head, Kurt felt himself bend over, and when he reopened his eyes, he found himself face to face with the green liquid. Quivering, Kurt refused to make a noise, and suddenly felt Karofsky lift one of his hands. He cut the end off of his nail, and he held the sliver over the water. Kurt watched him drop it into the tub, and instantly, the water foamed, a gas releasing from the top. Karofsky looked satisfied by Kurt's lack of reaction, "You're not scared?"

Kurt glared at him, "Just don't cut any more of my nails. I just had them done." He shut his eyes once more as Karofsky reached out for the crane and brought it closer, latching it around Kurt's middle. Kurt squirmed at the uncomfortable squeeze. Feeling his body raise, he opened his eyes one last time to see Blaine, who was writhing almost pathetically to escape the clamps. Smiling weepily, Kurt whispered, knowing that Blaine would hear him, "I love you."

Karofsky let the crane hover above the bubbling kryptonite, and then he stretched his arm out to press a button. Just before he dropped, Kurt heard something bust apart, and then there was air in his ears. He spiraled toward the kryptonite, seeing the greenish goo get closer to his face, when something smacked his body from the side. With his nose just a centimeter away from the water, Kurt was suspended with his body in Blaine's arms. His heart beat rapidly, as he tried to get the power to turn his head. But Kurt was frozen, unable to twitch a finger. Gasping, Kurt squirmed a little as Blaine raised him up. All at once, he heard Blaine make an unattractive noise as he ripped Kurt's hands free. Holding out his arms for balance, Kurt glanced behind him, and made a fretful noise at the sight of his foot, which the greenish liquid was dripping off of.

Tears trickled out of Kurt's eyes when the cold liquid seeped through his fabric shoe and brushed his foot, already eating its way through the pores of his skin. He finally looked up at Blaine's face, but Blaine was looking away, his eyes burning on Karofsky. Realizing that his plan had failed, Karofsky smacked another button, and the walls of the pool went toppling over, the suction between them releasing. Seconds later, the water burst free, splashing everything below it. "Unique!" Kurt screeched at his best friend, who was trapped on the ground, running away from the liquid. Blaine angled his body toward Unique and flew down, grabbing him by the back of his shirt. He hooked Unique under his arm like a football, and flew toward the roof of the building. With a few swings of his foot, he cracked a hole into it, and shouldered his body the rest of the way out.

Inhaling the fresh air, Kurt glanced over at Unique, about to say something to him, when his vision briefly blurred. He gained it back for a split second, but when he tried to focus on Unique, he could feel his eyes rolling back. Everything in his body melted and became hot, as if he had a fever, and he heard Unique shout something at Blaine. With how close his friend was to him, Kurt should have heard him loud and clear, but it was like Unique was ten miles away. Tucking his face into Blaine's neck, Kurt whispered faintly, "I would take a bullet for you, even if you can heal yourself."

* * *

When Kurt came to, his head felt light, his body like air, floating between a sandwich of nothingness. That was when a finger brushed against his cheek, and Kurt counted the individual wrinkles, felt the slight callous near his cuticle. He noticed that the nail was too long, and had chipped because it had been about a week since it'd been trimmed. Ruffling his brows, Kurt stretched out his muscles, "Blaine…" He said wearily, blinking his eyes open. "You really need a manicure."

Above him, someone laughed softly, and when Kurt opened his eyes, they focused on Blaine's face, which tears were dripping off of. Before Kurt could even get a good look at his fiancé, Blaine snatched him up in his arms and embraced him, folding him over his shoulder. Despite his confusion of why he was in a hospital, Kurt melted into his fiancé's body, nuzzling his face into Blaine's cheek. "I was so scared I'd lost you. The doctors told me that it wasn't mutating. I thought you were gone. Kurt… please, stay with me."

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, his lashes trembling under the weight of moisture, "I promise. The kryptonite mutated?" He pulled slightly away from Blaine. "Everything's so different now. I can see the textures in your skin. You don't have as many wrinkles as I thought you would."

Blaine chuckled again, and Kurt threw himself at Blaine, his arms wrapping around his neck. Making a choking sound, Blaine quickly loosened Kurt's grip, "Careful. You're as strong as I am now. How do you feel?"

Kurt spoke honestly, "Like I could run around the world ten times."

"That's very specific, but completely naturally." Blaine assured him, helping him sit up and supporting his back, even though Kurt didn't need the assistance. "Are you okay?"

Without another hesitation, Kurt grabbed Blaine's face and directed it toward his. He kissed him firmly, his lips parting, and his tongue asking for entrance into Blaine's mouth. Blaine opened his mouth and quickly gained dominance, sliding the tip of his tongue against Kurt's. Kurt abruptly yanked back, nose pointed upward as he sniffed at the air. "That's… That's Unique! Is Unique alright?"

"Unique's fine. The doctors told him to wait outside." Blaine grasped Kurt's hand and hauled him off of the bed, maneuvering him into his lap so he rested against Blaine. "The police went to that old factory to condemn it and drain the kryptonite. They found Karofsky's body. He was smothered in the kryptonite." Kurt released a sound of pity, before he struggled to bring himself upright, without relying on Blaine. He looked down at himself, finding that nothing looked different, but that it all felt different. "What do I do now? I'm just like you."

Blaine shook his head, "You're not just like me. And I don't know about you, but I'm never going to leave your side after this. I don't know why it took almost losing you to make me stop being so stupid." At the hopeful look in Kurt's eyes, Blaine smiled encouragingly, "I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm doing. But I'm ready to learn. I'm ready to be a husband. I'm going to keep you safe… be your provider… be the other daddy of your children. Kurt, there are always going to be people who are in danger. But this…" he gestured between himself and Kurt, "this only lasts for so long. And I'm going to spend every moment of it at your side… if you'll still take me."

Searching Blaine's face with his bright eyes, Kurt slowly shook his head. "No." After a few seconds, a huge smile stretched across his face, and he touched a tendril of Blaine's hair. "I'm just kidding. I wanted to see the look on your face."

* * *

Two months later, Kurt married Blaine in the backyard of their new home in the small town called Garden City, which was about forty minutes from New York City—thirty on a day with light traffic. With the money he'd earned from his first published book, A Super Man, Kurt paid back his parents' loan, and even had enough leftover to start an adoption application. The success of the book came from its ability to apply to any young person's dating life, as it commented on what it took to fall in love in the midst of real life.

Due to the tremendous amount of support the book had been given by the public, Kurt had been given a spot on the New York Times, covering articles on both fashion and relationships. Blaine had soon followed him into the company, taking a position as a crime journalist who got his information through other people, rather than himself.

The wedding went as successfully as Kurt had planned it to, with his parents cheering from their chairs as sweet kisses were exchanged at the altar. Afterwards, Kurt had dragged Blaine out to the dance floor, despite his aversion to swaying his body in a way that could be potentially embarrassing, and had spent the rest of the evening in his arms, spinning around and around. At the end of the night, Kurt and Blaine parted with their guests, and then Kurt squealed with happiness as Blaine snuck him back into their home.

Blaine tromped up to their bedroom, Kurt hooked under his arm, and tossed the giggling boy onto the bed. Instantly, Kurt rose up, floating to the ceiling, where he waited for Blaine to join him. He shed his clothing, letting his shirt plop onto Blaine's head. Blaine glared up at him, "You weren't this flirty on the night that I took your virginity."

Kurt raised one of his brows, "Are you complaining? Hurry up, old man!" After Blaine stripped down, he lifted himself up to Kurt, and straddled him against the ceiling. Kurt looped his arms around his neck, "Hi, Mr. Hummel-Anderson."

Blaine grinned lopsidedly, "I like that." Kissing Kurt's waiting mouth, he pushed Kurt's hips down, until his bottom was tilted over his stiff penis. With one thrust of his hips, he buried himself inside of Kurt, who moaned raggedly, his fingers grabbing at Blaine's hair. Because Kurt was stronger, Blaine didn't go as gently as he did before his conversion, and pounded into Kurt's hole, over and over, without pause. Kurt panted brokenly, trying to match Blaine's frantic rhythm. They kissed each other harder, until strands of saliva were connected between them, and their mouths were bruised. Blaine tweaked Kurt's nipple, and with a few more rams of his hips, he drove a loud keen out of Kurt, who clamped around him, strands of white squirting from his penis.

Blaine also released his seed, and when they finished, he went right back to snapping his hips into Kurt's. It was like this on most nights—an endless cycle of sex, because neither of them wore out, and neither of them wanted to stop. When Blaine positioned himself correctly, he hit an especially sensitive area, and Kurt let out a sharp gasp. He was mewling and clawing at Blaine, his legs winding around his hips, as Blaine rutted into him. "A-Are you using your powers to see where my prostate is again?" Kurt asked breathlessly, lowering his head and kissing one of Blaine's nipples.

Kurt burst into airy laughter when Blaine covered his mouth, looking offended, "What a-are you talking about? _I_ know where your prostate is."

"Really?" Kurt kissed Blaine again, his lips light and playful, before Blaine ducked his head and nibbled the pale skin that surrounded his nipple. He brushed his lips onto the pebbled tip, and suckled the red areola. "Just l-like you _know_ that I'll enjoy honeymooning on a cruise?"

"I did a good job of persuading you. I could be a travel agent."

Kurt's giggle was winded, as he reached the peak of his pleasure, "The only reason I'm going on this cruise is because I know how badly you wanted to. At least we d-didn't marry on a cruise."

"If we had released doves on our cruise, they wouldn't have had anywhere to go, and the ship would have been a mess."

"That's why you would feed the doves glitter." Kurt arched his back when Blaine hit an especially unnerving spot. "W-Why are we having this argument right now?" Blaine bumped his tip into the spot again, and Kurt groaned deeply. " _Oh,_ Blaine… you feel so good inside of me." Both of them came once more, this last orgasm slower and softer. Even though Kurt had enough energy to start again, he slowly drifted back to the bed, and watched Blaine land on top of him. Smiling down at him, Blaine brushed his sweaty hair back, and chuckled when Kurt nipped at his fingers. "I'm glad that you're home with me all the time now." Kurt whispered affectionately, letting himself be rolled to the side as Blaine clasped him to his chest, cradling him like he was a fragile doll. "I love you."

Blaine kissed the tip of his nose, "Love you, too. You're my super man."

* * *

Kurt scurried down one of the aisles near the front of the auditorium, laughter rupturing out of him as he slammed himself into one of the cushioned seats. Unique lowered beside of him, his daughter clasped in the fold of his arms. Lemay, as Unique had decided was the perfect name for her, curiously blinked over her dad's shoulder, her large, brown eyes studying the area around her. She was two years older than Kurt's youngest child, a daughter named Lizzie, who was a charming girl with waves of brown and honey blond, toppling over a pair of big, hazel eyes. Her skin was as white as freshly fallen snow, and her lips were a pale pink. Despite being only three, she knew many of her manners, and never fussed, and didn't speak out of turn.

While Lemay had been born through a surrogate for Unique and Rodney, Blaine and Kurt had adopted both of their children. Their other was an eight year old boy, and was the reason they were at the auditorium. At the age of four, they had entered Alfie into a private artistic academy, where he had readily signed up for the school musical, and had been cast as the scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz. Alfie was a smart little boy, who they always caught reading, and had even had to steal his books from, when he tried to stay up past his bedtime to finish one. With his mess of dark curls and blue eyes, Alfie was a sight for sore eyes, and the entire family always made over him, much to his mortification. After many family gatherings, Alfie had stamped his feet and informed his parents that there were better things he could do with his time than have his cheeks pinched.

As the lights dimmed, Kurt leaned over to Unique and whispered unsurely, "I hope Blaine gets here in time. It would break Alfie's heart if he missed his musical."

In the past eight years, Blaine had been better about spending time at home, and had never gone back out to fight crime. He was a good, timely husband, who ate every meal with his family, and went to sleep beside of his husband. Understanding the fear that Kurt had, Unique patted his knee, "It'll be okay, Kurt. You know Blaine."

As if he had somehow sensed them talking about him, Blaine suddenly appeared at the end of their row of seats, and walked down to where his husband sat. Flinging himself beside of Kurt, he kissed his daughter's forehead, and then spent some attention on his husband's lips. Before Kurt could question him, he held up a bouquet of flowers. "Happy thirtieth birthday, my love."

Kurt laughed at the kind gesture, and took one of the bouquets of flowers, while Blaine held onto the other one, obviously intending to give it to Alfie at the end of the musical. Lizzie reached out to toy with one of the petals, and she sneezed when the scent of the flower overwhelmed her tiny nose. "Thank you. But I'm still young. You're the old man in this family."

Blaine pinched Kurt's chin, "Old? Nonsense. I don't look a day over twenty."

Unique ruffled his brows, "Blaine, your aging might slow down because of your powers, but you do not look twenty. Sorry to disappoint you, old man. Who knows? By the end of the play, you might be rolling out of here in a wheelchair."

Glaring at him, he shook his head. "You two are ridiculous. I am _not_ that old. What do you think, Lizzie? Does my baby girl think that Daddy is old?" When Lizzie tittered at him, Blaine rolled his eyes and slumped back in his seat. "Kurt has a birthday, and yet they're talking about how old _I_ am."

Kurt pointed at his ears. "I have supersonic hearing, so I can hear you grumbling to yourself." He slapped his hand over Blaine's mouth, "Now, stop complaining. The musical's about to start! Our little Alfie is destined to be a musical legend."

When the curtains came up, Kurt's eyes became very alert, the lights causing them to glitter. Within fifteen minutes, Alfie marched onto the stage in the outfit that Kurt had sewn together—a pair of green pants and a brown vest with large buttons. Kurt had stuffed the shirt and pants with pieces of straw, and as he kicked his legs up, a large clump of straw fell out. Even though his teachers had warned him that, no matter what mistakes happened, the show had to go on, Alfie immediately turned around and scuttled back to the straw, scraping it up. Kurt giggled into his palm, his head falling onto his husband's chest as he watched his son resume his part in the musical.

Alfie stood in the middle of the stage with his arms outstretched, blowing air at the black pieces of paper that were tossed at him, each one cut with wings, so that it resembled ravens. As soon as they stopped flinging the papers, he lowered his head and stared out at the audience. His eyes searched for his parents, so Blaine and Kurt waved at him. He grinned proudly at him, every tooth showing, and luckily didn't wave back.

* * *

Once the musical ended, Kurt walked with his family out to their car, which they piled into as Alfie chattered about what his favorite parts to perform were. Blaine buckled him into his seat, smirking at how he went on and on, oblivious to everything that went on around him. As soon as Blaine climbed into the driver's seat, Kurt grabbed his hand, and twisted around to congratulate Alfie. "You were wonderful, Alfie! Where do you want to celebrate? We can go to any restaurant you'd like."

"I want to try a soufflé!"

Blaine's brow arched up to his hairline, "Where on earth did you hear that word? Little boys are supposed to eat pizza and potato chips."

Alfie held up a finger, "Every artistically minded genius knows what a soufflé is, Daddy. I even know what caviar is, but I don't agree with the practice of taking baby fish away from their mamas. And I'll only eat the soufflé if it's made with cage-free eggs. Isn't it sad when they coop those chickens up in cages?"

Blaine rolled his eyes, "He's eight. Why does he know these things?"

All Kurt could do was giggle, "He was asking questions one day because I told him that Pavarotti doesn't like to be stuck in his cage for more than a few hours. He's just like you are. When you stick up for something, you're very firm about it. He takes after you."

"Well, he gets these ideas from _you._ "

Unique leaned his head against the window, "All I want for Lemay to be is a mindless potato. It seems easiest. I'm introducing her to technology early."

Kurt, whose hearing had been tuned into any alarming announcements, from all of the weeks that Blaine used to go out and fight crime, turned his head slightly toward the radio. The station that was buzzing in the background was informing everyone within a half hour of New York City that a burglar had just escaped from a bank, and was driving a car through alleyways. Despite his awareness that Blaine wasn't going to go back to the life he used to live, Kurt still flashed his eyes up to him, and watched him reach down for the radio and click to another station. Kurt leaned back in his seat, smiling to himself, as he thought about how he had to let Pavarotti out of his cage when he got home.


End file.
